Apotheosis
by circxe
Summary: [Act I] "oh, apollo loved cassandra and for that, troy burned. the gods play their games; mortals pay their price." He was made of fire and empires that bled revolutions crowned with gold. She was a constellation of ash and vanished memories that was shrouded in insanity. Embers spark in the dead of night, a silent scream of exaltation and regret. [Minho/OC]
1. AGAMEMNON

**ACT I SCENE I**  
 **AGAMEMNON**

* * *

" _Those whom the Gods love,  
_ _die young."_

* * *

 **A** **SLOW, ANNOYING DRONE** ; like the perpetual hum of a malignant vector in search of fresh blood. All she knew last was that the anaesthesia had put her under back in the chamber. The smell of rust and damp forced her mind back into a state of awareness. Discomfort was something that she was well acquainted with, making her body tense instinctively. She felt his familiar presence reaching out to her with restless trepidation.

" _Are you ready?_ " he asked.

" _No,_ " she shot back.

Then she inhaled sharply and retched. Her eyes flew open and darted around to take in her surroundings. It was dark with only a faint blinking red glow that came from somewhere high above her. She swallowed back the acidic taste in her mouth as her trembling arms pushed herself upright.

Everything around her shook and rattled, her stomach churned as she careened upwards. She forced herself to her feet and felt around through the dark. Her fingers brushed against coarse, grainy wood and a goat bleated from a corner nearby. She stumbled forwards, her mind racing at the same time with the velocity.

Where was she? She turned from side to side, feeling lost and disoriented, then she saw it. One word, six letters, stamped in bold. It flashed in front of her eyes each time the red glow illuminated it. She stared, transfixed, and felt a tightly coiled ball of anger unravel in her chest. Her face contorted into a deep scowl as she finally realised.

This was a mistake. Her fists slammed against the rails and a furious scream tore through her vocal chords. She should have known better, the thought kept racing across her mind. Her legs started to tremble and she fell back down onto grated metal. The nausea swelled and threatened to rise up her throat again.

"No, no, no..." she moaned, grasping her head. She could already feel the effects of the device in her brain, like a plug being pulled. Her identity, as she knew it, was disappearing- slipping into the cracks and crevices of her subconscious. Soon, she would forget.

She slumped down to the floor and felt hot wet tears stream down her cheeks. " _You were a mistake_ ," she could hear another voice in her mind. She hugged her knees to her chest as sobs wracked through her entire body, and waited for the ride to end.

* * *

There was a loud jolting boom and the box grounded to a halt. From above, she could hear the groan of metal grinding against metal. The doors of the lift were wrenched open in perfect synchrony and bright light invaded through the opening.

Loud voices suddenly filled the air, voices that felt familiar but she couldn't quite place or recall. "What do we have-" they stopped abruptly into a stunned silence. She felt like she was waiting for a death sentence when two heavy footsteps landed inside the lift.

A hand was on her shoulder, shaking her.

"Hey, you good there?" someone asked.

There was a brief pause.

"She's bloody out of it. Someone throw down a rope."

A second deeper voice started barking out orders from the top. The floor moved from under her and she was now squinting at the opposite wall. Wooden crates and boxes surrounded them on all sides. Her eyes were swollen and the change in surrounding wasn't helping her situation.

"Can you stand?" the boy beside her asked.

She finally had a look at his face. He was young, in his teens, with blonde hair and round brown eyes that were full of concern. There was a tiny scar on his cheek, the only thing that marred his smooth face. She managed to move her head left and right; the rest of her body refused to respond.

"Well, good thing you're small."

He hooked an arm under her knees and wrapped the other around her back before lifting her up in one swift motion. The boy took a couple of steps forward before slipping a rope around her middle. There was a tug and her eyelids drooped down from exhaustion as she was lifted out of the box.

She felt grass beneath her a moment later and smelt the heavy scent of earth. It reminded her of lying down on picnic blankets and eating sandwiches, warm hugs and soft kisses. Voices erupted all around her at once with a chorus of questions.

"Is that... a real girl?"

"What's up with her?"

"Is she pretty?"

"Let me see her!"

"Hey!" a deep voice cut through the air. "No one touches her except who I say can touch her, you got that, slintheads?"

Mumbles of disappointed consent rippled around her but the brief outburst had woken her up from her daze. She opened her eyes and stared up at an expansive clear blue sky. Her eyes scanned their periphery, at the faces of the boys looking down at her. She felt another twang of familiarity as she carefully examined the features of each inquisitive face and curiosity filled her.

"Fresh air makin' ya feel better?" the blonde kid popped back into her view, hovering above her head.

She frowned and tried to clench her fist, measuring what strength she had in her body. Her mouth opened to speak, taking in a deep breath and feeling it scrape the insides of her throat. The girl's reaction was instantaneous as she went into a violent coughing fit, rolling onto her hands and knees as tears pricked her eyes.

Choking to death; what a great way to go, she groaned inwardly.

The blonde was patting her on the back as she struggled to recompose herself.

"Don't die on us," he was telling her. "We've never had a girl come up before. Kinda exciting, actually."

Her only reaction as she tried not to die was what on earth could he possibly mean by that?

"Yeah, speak for yourself," someone else said.

A moment later, a cup of water was pushed in front of her face. She grabbed it hastily and drank every single drop, enjoying the cooling sensation running down her oesophagus. After a satisfied sigh, she lifted her head to look around with renewed vigour.

It was like a veil being pulled away. She started remembering snippets of her life- walking down a street, sleeping in a tunnel, the smell of disinfectant and the warmth of woollen blankets. The memories flowed past like a gushing stream, each one not quite connecting with the next.

She remembered faces, their faces.

"Can you tell us your name?" the blonde was asking her again. "Mine's-"

"Newt?" she interrupted him.

"What..."

The girl turned to look at him squarely, feeling as if she had known him for ages but had no such evidence to back it up. She could match his face to a name, but that was pretty much all her brain could do. It was like having selective memory. Where did she meet him? How did she know him? Did they used to be friends? There was no answer to any of these basic questions.

"Newt," she repeated, more confidently. "That's your name... right?"

His face was scrunched up with a mixture of emotions, shock and fear being the most prominent. Apprehension started to rise from the pit of her stomach, then someone grabbed her from behind and spun her around. His fingers dug into her shoulders uncomfortably as she looked into a hardened face with dark heated eyes, and gulped.

"What did you just say?" the boy asked, emphasising each word.

"Alby...?" the name slipped out of her mouth.

He stumbled backwards away from her as if burnt and the boys circling them broke out into frightened whispers. She realised, albeit belatedly, that she probably should have kept her strange name knowing to herself. But she couldn't help it. She knew them. That was the only thing she was certain about. Someone stepped forwards, pointing at himself. He was a tall and bulky boy with brown hair and a mean looking face.

"What about me?" he asked her.

"...Gally."

"Bloody hell," Newt swore under his breath behind her.

"Somethin' ain't right here," Alby shook his head and stared at her in perturbation. "Nobody should know... is it a trick? Did they do this on purpose?"

She wanted to ask what he meant by that but Newt was pulling on her arm this time. The boy looked at her with wide hopeful eyes when she turned around.

"What else do you know?" he asked.

Her eyebrows furrowed deeply as she tried to rack her brain, only to find a massive block in her memory again. She was well aware that she should know more; where she came from, for example, her family and friends. Even her own age was unknown to her. But she could comprehend language, mathematical equations, other mundane things like how to use a fork and knife. It seemed like her procedural and semantic memory stores were intact- she just couldn't remember how she knew them or anything else about herself.

"That's all..." she replied numbly.

"Are you sure?" he pressed. "Try to think. Hard. Think really bloody hard."

"I'm telling you that's all I know," she snapped at him. "I can't even remember who I am!"

"Nothing else?" Alby looked at her suspiciously.

"Nothing," she insisted. "I swear."

"Then how do you know our names?" Gally asked almost demandingly.

"I-I don't know!" the girl exclaimed, flustered at their overbearingness. "I just do, okay? I can give a name to a face. But I don't know where the heck I am or where I came from. What's going on?"

"Okay, calm down," Newt told her and exchanged looks with the other boys. "You still haven't given us your own name."

She paused to look at him, finding her chest suddenly heaving with emotion. There was something in his relaxed demeanour that put her back to ease, she could hear the sincerity and kindness in his voice.

"It's Cassandra," she said almost reluctantly. "Like the Greek princess."

"Well, Cassandra, like the Greek princess," Newt stood up and wiped his hands on his pants, then held one out to her.

She looked up at his face, squinting against the sunlight behind him. The moment she took his hand, she felt that he was someone she could put her trust in. He hoisted her up onto her feet and she winced. Her muscles felt sore as if she had just ran an entire marathon. She was aware of every single pair of eyes on her and it made her feel self-conscious. Cassandra took in a shaky breath and exhaled slowly.

"Welcome to the Glade."

Newt waved his arms out and she followed his gaze, sweeping across the patch of grass they were standing on and to the stone ground beyond. A sudden jolt of fear struck her heart but she had no idea why.

The Glade, as it was called, looked completely peaceful and idyllic. She could see a farm on one side full of luscious greenery and flowering trees. A few animals roamed about, completely at ease. Next to it was a battered looking building. It looked like it was made up of several shacks haphazardly thrown against the other. There was a forest in another corner, its trees clustered close together and throwing deep shadows along the ground.

Then she lifted her eyes and noticed it; the tall looming walls that encircled the entire Glade. They were made of the same stone as the ground, with large gaps on each point of the compass. She took a step forward, straining her eyes at the opening directly opposite her. Someone was running towards them from beyond the walls and a voice called out behind her.

"Hey, who's that? Isn't too early to be back?"

"Can't tell from all the way here."

Her feet started off on their own, as if drawn by some inexplicable force. Newt called her back and started to go after her but Alby held a hand out.

"Wait. I want to see what she's gonna do next," he said, keeping his eyes trained on the girl with distrust.

She ignored them and made her way across the field but she knew they were watching her carefully, following her every movement. Breaking away from the throng of boys, she started to run despite the lingering ache in her muscles.

Her heart swelled with anticipation and something akin to longing as the towering walls reared closer towards her. She could now make out the figure that was running in her direction. He was tall and muscular, wearing a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off his strong arms. His facial features were Asian, and his black hair cut short.

The boy stopped just inside the Glade and bent in half to catch his breath. Sweat stained his clothes and slid down his creased forehead in beads. She slowed down to a jog until she was a couple of feet away from him then stopped. He was panting and muttering curses in that strange slang she could barely understand.

She knew him; but not like how she knew the others. It felt different, more profound. As if she had known every intimate detail of his life before, but it was now lost to the amnesia- save for a persistent feeling of ache in her chest. Finally, he felt her stare and looked up.

"What the shucking hell?" he laughed breathlessly. "They sent up a girl?"

She took a step forward then swayed backwards hesitantly, her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed nervously. The boy continued to give her a weird look.

"Did they finally send a TV up with you too? What are you doing here?" he asked, dragging a hand across his brow. "Where're the others?"

He tilted his head to look behind her.

"Why are those shanks letting you run around on your own?"

"Minho?" her voice shook as she uttered his name, stirring something inside that had been covered in ancient dust.

He froze and his face fell, eyes flicking up to look at her again. She closed the gap between them in three quick steps and he jerked upright in surprise. Her hand reached up to his face and lightly touched his cheek with cold fingertips against his flushed skin. The boy watched her with wariness.

"Did someone tell you who I was?" he asked uncertainly.

She shook her head and took a deep shuddering breath. Something indiscernible squeezed at her heart, and it hurt so much that tears were starting to pool in her eyes. It was the most bizarre experience and she would never be able to explain it, she was just afraid that he would vanish before her very eyes like smoke.

"Hey, what-" he pulled her hand away. "What's wrong with you?"

"I-I don't know..." she gasped. "But it hurts."

"You're hurt? What the hell did those shuck-faces do to you?" he grabbed her shoulders and examined her for injuries.

"No-" she pressed her palm tightly against her sternum. "My chest..."

"Someone get a shucking Med-jack here!" he yelled at the boys in the distance. "She's having a heart attack!"

"What?" somebody yelled back.

"No, wait- Minho, please," she called anxiously. "Minho, look at me."

He turned back towards her in confusion. Cassandra looked into his brown eyes, searching for a clue; something, anything. She knew it was there, just beyond her reach. The sound of childish laughter amongst the soft drizzle of rain. Warm hands clasped together under the splatter of a rising dawn. A daisy kissed by the glow of the golden sun.

Pain suddenly exploded from every darkened corner of her mind, and her face crumpled from the strain.

It felt like a searing hot knife was twisting through her brain cells, then specks of light erupted in her vision before she blacked out. Minho barely caught her in time before her body could hit the ground.

"Whoa! Oh, man. Hey, you stupid shuck-faced shanks! Someone help this chick out!"

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

Hello and welcome to this crazy roller coaster ride! The story takes place six months before Thomas arrives in the Glade and is based entirely on the original books with some movie aspects. It's a romance but a slow-building one because I want to focus on the plot as well and explore some of the backstory of the universe being the science and the world they live in. Those were what really drew me into the books and I wanted to delve into that unexplored territory. There will also be a lot of references to Greek mythology.

Please consider favouriting and leaving a review for this story if you enjoyed it, all proceeds will be donated to a good cause in raising Glader children!

CHECK OUT THE TRAILER I MADE ON MY PROFILE xx


	2. EPIGONI

**ACT I SCENE II**  
 **EPIGONI**

* * *

 _Black birds fly in the sky tonight_  
 _Mummy's gonna sing you a lullaby_  
 _Little darling baby, don't you cry_  
 _I'll be here all through the night_  
 _Hush little sweetheart  
It'll be fine_  
 _Daddy's just playing on the other side_  
 _Everything will just be fine_  
 _No one's gonna hurt little baby tonight_

* * *

 **AN** **INHUMAN SCREAM** pierced through the air and she shot out of the bed in a blind fright. She couldn't see. Only darkness surrounded her, suffocating her. Cassandra found her breaths starting to become deep and rapid. Panic crashed through her senses with an injection of adrenaline through her blood stream, switching her senses into fight or flight mode in an instant. She felt a pair of hands grab hold of her wrists tightly, causing her to scream and struggle.

"Hey, easy! Easy!"

She barely recognised the voice calling out to her and stopped. Newt looked at her with his big round eyes and she felt her muscles start to relax again. She lowered her arms and Newt slowly let go of her wrists, as if afraid she would lash out again. Her breathing evened out, and her eyes started to adjust to the dimness.

"Easy..." he repeated soothingly.

"What was that sound?" she whispered.

She was sure that she'd heard it. The scream penetrated through the thick haze of her sleep like a shrill alarm from hell. It felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water down her back, chilling her to the bone.

"You'll find out later," he told her dismissively. "For now, you need to get something to eat. You've been unconscious for two days. Clint's been feeding ya soup and all that rubbish, but you need a proper meal."

At the thought of food, she could feel her stomach rumble in response. She had zero arguments against his suggestion and nodded her head slowly. Newt smirked at her reaction, then stood up and waited for her to get out of bed. They exited the room and went down a narrow corridor of the building; it was completely empty with only shadows to occupy it.

She followed him down a flight of creaky stairs and Newt held the front door open for her. It was probably sometime in the mid-afternoon but it was hard to tell because the sun was nowhere to be seen. There weren't any clouds in the sky for it to hide behind either; it was just absent.

The Glade had an ideal temperature, not too hot and not too cold. You could walk around comfortably outside in a sweater or a t-shirt. Newt brought her towards the kitchen, pointing out the bathroom on the way over and she made a mental note of that. He was telling her about the layout of the place, calling it their compound and she didn't like the sound of that.

It made her feel trapped.

Newt opened another door to the joint shack nearby. The smell of grease and food greeted her and she knew that she was in the right place. The cook, called Frypan, gave her a huge serving of steak, mashed potatoes and vegetables. They sat on a bench outside and she dug in as if her life depended on it. Tasty savory juice seeped out of tender flesh as she chewed slowly and sighed through her nose.

"You look like you've just gone straight up to Heaven," Newt laughed at her.

"I feel like I haven't eaten in months," she replied through another mouthful.

"I can tell." He gave her a moment to enjoy her food before breaking the silence. "So what is it with you and Minho?"

She swallowed and paused in thought. Minho... she remembered the boy she had ran up to. Remembered placing her hand against his face and a blush started to creep up her cheeks. She looked down at her plate in an attempt to hide it with her hair. Truth be told, she had no idea how to answer Newt's question. She could barely understand any of it all herself.

"I don't know," she finally said. "It's just... a feeling. I can't explain it either."

"Uhuh..." he stuck his tongue in his cheek. "Cause it looked like you knew him pretty... intimately."

Her breath caught in her chest and the blush she was trying to hide grew even more pronounced; her cheeks felt like a hot oven.

"God, don't say it like that!" she exclaimed, hiding behind her hands.

He laughed at her, a pleasing sound that made his face look even more boyish.

"Just playin' with ya, Greenie," he winked. "Still got loads to learn, don't ya?"

"Thank you for telling me the obvious, Newton," she looked up at him.

"Huh... never heard anyone calling me that before," he said. "Sounds weird."

"You'll get used to it," her lips curled up mischievously as she scooped some mashed potatoes into her mouth.

"Minho's in the Maze now," he told her. "But he's been waiting for ya to wake up."

"Maze?" she frowned.

"A bloody big one at that," he gestured towards one of the gaps in the wall. "That's why they put us here, we reckon. To solve it and get out."

"What..." her eyes widened in disbelief. "But why..."

"One at a time, Greenbean," he wagged a finger.

She probably should have been more curious, but she had a feeling that she would rather wait to find out. Her recently awoken brain probably wouldn't be able to process the information anyway, so she let the subject drop.

"What do you guys do around here then?" she asked instead.

"Aha," he perked up. "You're a smart Greenbean, I like ya. Well, lucky for you, I'm gonna take you out on The Tour."

"Alright," she finished up her meal and set her cutlery down. "Take me on this mystical, amazing Tour."

"Good that," he smirked and got up.

She followed his lead closely as they walked away from the Homestead, as he called it. The farm was close by, divided into a garden and a barn. She could see tomatoes, corn and carrots growing in their little plots. Behind it was an orchard with trees and bushes full of luscious ripe fruits. Boys of various ages were hard at work weeding, pruning and ploughing the fields.

Next to it was what they called the Blood House, where the animals were reared and then brought in for slaughter. It reeked of manure and blood. The boy in charge of the place was a pretty freaky guy, with dark mocking eyes and acne lining the sides of his face. She immediately told Newt as they were walking away, that she had absolutely no intention of working there, or even passing it by for a leisurely stroll. He just laughed at her.

They walked across the entire Glade, with Newt pointing out new landmarks and areas to her. Then he stopped by a rough concrete building between the Deadheads and the animal pens with a submarine handle on the door. He ignored her questioning looks at first, but relented when she finally asked.

"That's the Map Room, Greenie, specially reserved for the Runners," he told her briefly. "And now, we're gonna talk about jobs. So-"

"What's a Runner?" she interrupted him, raising an eyebrow sceptically.

"Never you mind what a Runner is," he said flatly.

It felt like a little light bulb had lit up at the back of her head and her eyes widened.

"Minho's a Runner, isn't he?" she asked almost too eagerly.

"He's the Keeper of the Runners, very important man. And now-"

"What do they do? Can I be a Runner?" she bit her lip.

"No."

His immediate blunt response caught her slightly off-guard and she blinked at him. She hadn't even been serious about it but there was an intent gaze in his eyes. It piqued her curiosity even more than trying to learn about the boy called Minho.

"Why?" she asked.

"Well, for one, you're a little girl," he pointed with furrowed brows. "The Maze is no joke out there, alright? Only the best of us becomes a Runner."

"So... Minho's like the best of the best out of everyone here?" she asked slyly.

"You could put it that way but don't say it out loud in front of him, okay? His shucking ego is big enough as is."

She nodded to show her understanding but her heart swelled with pride for Minho. It was a silly notion that she quickly brushed aside, then Newt clapped his hands to grab her attention again.

"So tomorrow we're gonna start testing you out," he said. "See what you can do best. Good?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "But why don't I make it simple for you? Just put me in the gardens or the kitchen. I doubt I'd fare better anywhere else."

"Fair enough," he cocked his head to the side. "Usually we don't make exceptions but since you're the _only_ girl here... I can see putting you in the Blood House or with the Builders ain't such a grand idea. I'll talk to Alby about it."

"Is Alby like your leader?" she asked.

"He's the oldest," he told her with a shrug. "Leader by default, I guess. But everyone has to work together here. That's no exception for you either. We need to trust each other or else everything's just gonna go to klunk."

"If you say so," she responded nonchalantly.

Her eyes wandered about the field and she could tell that it must be getting late as the sunlight dimmed to a dusky glow. The other Gladers looked like they were packing their equipment up, ready to retire for the day. Her gaze then turned towards the Door directly in front of her field of vision.

"Yeah, you haven't seen the Doors closed yet, have you?" Newt looked in the same direction. "The Runners should be back any second now. Minho too. He's gonna wanna see you."

He had mentioned it before. Cassandra turned to look at him with a puzzled expression. "Why?" she asked.

"Ain't a wonder, the way you were actin' when you first saw him," he turned back to her. "He wants to ask you stuff."

"Ask me what? I don't know anything," she frowned.

He shrugged. "Well, you're different. And you're a girl."

"Thanks for the reminder again," she rolled her eyes. "Does Minho go out into the Maze every day?"

"Without fail."

She still didn't know what was the big deal about the Maze but it sounded dangerous. An anxious feeling started to seep into her chest but it only lasted a brief moment when she spotted someone running through the South Door; a tall boy with blonde hair and an athletic body. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he took several deep breaths. Two more came through the East Door. Then another boy ran up from the West side. He took a moment to gather himself before heading over to the concrete building with the others. One by one, they started returning to the Glade and she suddenly felt a little nervous as she waited for the last Runner to return.

 _Where was Minho?_

She caught Newt glancing at his watch and bit the inside of her cheek. Were the Doors going to close soon? Did he get held up somewhere? Was he injured?

She barely knew the guy and she was already worried about him.

"Oh, there he is!" Newt pointed. "Just in time too."

She felt relief wash over her and let out a small breath when she saw Minho's familiar figure entering the Glade from the North Door. Newt smirked down at her. "Got you worried there?" he teased.

"No," she snapped instinctively, feeling another blush coming on. "I-I just don't want to think about what would happen if he didn't get back before the Doors closed."

"He'll die. No one has ever survived a night out in the Maze."

She looked at Newt with wide eyes, hoping in vain that he was just joking, but his eyes were dead serious. Then he turned back north and waved towards the boy in the distance.

Just as Minho waved back, there was a loud and deep rumble. The Doors around the Glade started moving at once, rod like extensions from one side sliding into their matching holes on the other. The unfathomable large walls moved as one with great heaving force, shifting and straining under the burden of their own weight. The sound of stone grating against stone reverberated throughout her body without forbearance, then a slam marked the end of the procession. She stared in awe, not having expected that.

"Go on," Newt continued to tease her. "I bet he's eager to see you too."

"I said no!" she said with a huff and walked away, back to the Homestead.

Newt guffawed behind her as she stalked off, determined not to look back. She thought maybe he would go after her but he hadn't. Curious, she turned around and saw that he had gone up to Minho instead, and the both of them were looking in her direction. She turned back around and quickened her pace.

Cassandra passed the Homestead, opting to head towards the orchard instead. The boys had long gone and now congregated around the kitchen, waiting eagerly for dinner to be served. She was just staring up at the canopy of a large apple tree, taking in the sweet scent that clung in the air when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Jumping in surprise, she spun around to find Minho behind her. She stared at him with wide terrified eyes and he broke out into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, man! You should have seen yourself!" he exclaimed. "You look like you just saw a ghost!"

Disgruntled and embarrassed, she scowled at him.

"Yeah, thanks," she grumbled and turned around again, walking down the rows of trees.

"Hey, hey! Come on, I was kidding!"

Cassandra ignored him and continued on her way. His shoes thudded heavily on the ground as he ran after her. She swatted a low branch out of her way and the recoil almost hit Minho in the face as he came up behind her but he caught it just in time. _Of course he had good reflexes,_ she thought bitterly.

"I just wanted to talk to you," he said.

"Well, talk then," she replied curtly, not slowing her pace down any.

He easily caught up with her and was now walking by her side. She could smell the sweat and must emanating from his run. He hooked his fingers over the harness of his pack and sighed heavily.

"Shuck it," he said. "I thought of loads of things to ask you but I'm drawing a blank now. Man, that's annoying."

She glanced at him and stopped, having reached the end of the orchard. That was too short of a walk so she turned around and headed back the same way they came from. He followed after her.

"Are you going to just keep walking up and down this place?" he asked drily.

"Maybe."

"Aw, come on," he reached up and plucked a couple of apples.

She now hated boys and their heights. He passed her one and she managed to catch it just in time. Minho bit down on the fruit and made satisfied sounds amidst the crunching.

"Good stuff," he said. "Boy, was I starving."

She felt a pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach. He should be having dinner now with the others then have a nice hot shower or whatever, yet here he was trying to talk to her. She took a bite of her apple and chewed slowly. Minho leaned against a tree as he ate, looking at her intently.

"They told me you knew everyone's names," he started.

"Yeah..."

"But the way you acted when you saw me meant that... maybe you knew more about me, right?"

"Maybe," she frowned. "I actually can't remember anything other than names and faces. I recognise people but I don't know where I've seen them before. All I have are... feelings."

"Feelings? What kinda feelings?" he asked.

She fidgeted sheepishly. "Uh... like I hadn't seen you in a really long time. But like I said, I don't remember."

"Nothing at all?" he raised his eyebrows at her. "How bout you take another good look at my face?"

She actually looked at him, still covered in dust and dried sweat. It was a little hard to accept that just moments ago, she had such intense feelings for the boy. He looked just like the rest of them. What was so special about him? It just irritated her even more.

"Nothing," she shook her head. "I can't control the memories... feelings, whatever they are. They just come on when they want to."

"Huh... funny that," he said. "What about yourself then? Remember anythin'?"

She averted her gaze to the ground, taking a moment to ponder on his question. "I remember my mother..." she said quietly. "Singing to me."

"Your mother..." he nodded. "What was she like?"

"She was beautiful... she had big brown eyes and long dark hair," she told him. "Her voice was the sweetest thing I ever heard..."

A scream. She remembered someone screaming too and it sounded almost like the hideous sound that woke her up earlier. But everything was muddled, as if lost at the bottom of a teacup. Minho threw the apple core to the ground and folded his arms.

"It couldn't have been so bad then," he finally said.

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Nevermind. What about the Glade? Remember anythin'?"

"Nope," she shook her head again.

They settled into an almost awkward silence, just staring at each other, but there was something almost comforting just being in his presence. She knew him but at the same time, she didn't, and it only served to confuse her further.

"Come on," he cocked his head back to the Homestead. "Let's get some dinner. I'm still starving."

She dropped her apple core and watched it bounce away from her foot. "Okay."


	3. PELEUS

**ACT I SCENE III**  
 **PELEUS**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA FOLLOWED MINHO'S LEAD** as they walked back down the rows of trees. He paused to pluck a bunch of blueberries, which he shared with her. As they made it back to the Homestead, she could see that the Gladers were already finishing up their dinners. They each got a serving of casserole from Frypan and headed towards an unoccupied table. Some of the boys looked at her as she passed by, then turned to whisper with each other.

"Someone's popular," Minho smirked widely at her, his cheek indented with a dimple and eyes crinkling upwards.

"Great..." she muttered distastefully as they sat down.

He dug in with unrestrained vigour while she pecked away at her food. She wondered how he could still have so much energy after running for the entire day. It was inhuman. Were all the Runners like that? Or were they like that because they were Runners?

"What's wrong, Greenbean?" he looked up at her. "Don't like your casserole?"

"No, it's not that..." she lifted up a piece of chicken, stared at it and then put it into her mouth.

"Then what's with the mopey face?" he teased her, pouting his lips.

"I'm not being mopey," she retorted and speared another chunk of meat with her fork.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she sighed.

"I just don't get it," she said, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I don't get any of this. It's weird!"

"Believe me, you're not the only one who feels that way," he told her a matter-of-factly. "But we make do with what we got."

Her mouth had gone sour and she forced herself to gulp it away, appetite completely lost. Everything about this place was off, and why didn't any of them remember anything? Why were they trapped in the middle of a giant maze? Most of all, why was she the only one that was different?

"Hey, don't think so much about it, alright?" he tried to sound comforting. "Just leave it to us. We'll find a way out, trust me."

She looked up at him from underneath her lashes, then rubbed her tired eyes. There was still something she didn't understand and she leaned forwards across the table to Minho.

"What is it _like_ out there?" she asked him. "In the Maze."

"A pain in the butt," he stated, his voice turning clipped. "It changes everyday, the walls move, opening new passages and closing off old ones. More than that, there are eight sectors. Each one has different patterns, and some of them have landmarks."

"What else is in there?" she pressed.

"Grievers," he rested his arms on the table to lean in and lowered his voice. He was suddenly a lot closer than she anticipated. "You see one of 'em, you _run_ and don't look back. At all costs. Cause once those suckers sting you and if you don't get a serum in time, you're dead."

It was still too much for her to take in, even though Minho was only giving her a basic outline of the place. It was ludicrous. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath to calm herself.

"And you risk yourself out there every single day?" she asked, almost in awe.

"Someone has to do it," he shrugged. "Or else we'll just be a bunch of cavemen living here. Sides, I'm not the only one."

"How many Runners are there?" she asked.

"Eight of us. One for each sector."

"Only eight?" she exclaimed with wide eyes and wondered how that could possibly be enough.

"There used to be more of us," he told her. "But we lost 'em. Newt used to be a Runner, but he got into an accident. Noticed that limp of his? Yeah, not going out there anymore."

She frowned, hope slowly slipping through her fingers.

"It ain't so bad here though," he shrugged his broad shoulders again. "The other shanks work their butts off. Little else to do anyway. But it's not too bad, aside from the giant walls surrounding us."

"Yeah, it's alright..." she replied in a distant monotone. Minho looked at her for a moment with an expression mixed with amusement, boredom and understanding.

"Come on," he stood up from the bench. "And take your dinner with you, don't waste food."

She looked up at him quizzically. "What?"

"Come on," he repeated. "I'll take you somewhere you can take your mind off things."

She actually liked the sound of that and it piqued her curiosity. Cassandra picked up her plate of casserole, stuck her cutlery in it and stood up. She followed Minho away from the Homestead, heading south towards the Grove. When she was with Newt earlier, she had noticed how creepy the forest was with how close the trees were together. The ground was swallowed up in shadow and now that the sun had gone down, it was almost pitch darkness.

"Stay close to me," even his voice sounded muffled. "Not that there's anything to worry about, but you might get scared."

She inhaled and gave him a sharp look, which he replied with a cheeky grin. If it hadn't hit so close to home, she would have argued with him and probably sock him in the shoulder or something. She did stay close to him though, as close as she dared. They moved quietly through the trees, save for their feet crunching on dried leaves and soil. The air felt heavier in there, almost weighing her down with its oppressiveness. Minho looked back to check on her.

"Not too far now," he said.

They walked a little deeper in until they reached a particularly large tree that stood right next to the Wall. It was a willow, with long drooping branches cascading down to the ground. Vines from the stone crept along its trunk, snaking their way around the tree in a tender embrace. It was the only one of its kind in the Grove.

Minho walked over and sat down between two large buttresses. He looked over at her and patted the empty space next to him. She clutched her casserole closely- already feeling silly for bringing it- and took careful steps towards him before settling down.

"Been wanting to visit here for a while now," he told her. "Lucky you I was in the mood."

She smiled sheepishly and tried to balanced her plate on her knees. Minho eyed it hungrily.

"Not gonna eat that?" he raised his eyebrows at her.

"Here, have it," she laughed, passing the plate over.

He gave her a sweet little smile and took a spoonful of casserole. She guessed he just had a lot of energy to refuel.

"You should finish your food," he told her. "It's all you get, you know. Frypan hates people raiding his kitchen for snacks."

"Is his name really Frypan?" she narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose.

"Nah, just a nickname," he laughed. "It's actually Siggy, but Frypan suits him better. Good thing the Creators sent him with us or we'd all just shucking starve to death."

"The Creators are the people who put us here, right?" she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs.

"The ones who made this shucking place," he pointed around with the spoon.

"And where did all those words come from?" she frowned in bemusement. "Shuck. Klunk. Shank. Slinthead?"

"I don't know. Probably from George. It just caught on."

She remembered something again. "George... he's... gone, right?"

"Yeah," he looked at her. "Somethin' kickin' around in that head of yours again?"

"Sort of... he was the first one, wasn't he?" she bit her lip in concentration.

"Yeah..." he said quietly. "It was rough back then."

"Yeah..." she echoed hollowly.

"Still pretty weird you get to remember stuff," he told her. "Weirdest part is that you weren't even here to actually remember it. How do you know?"

"I wish I knew..." she replied, staring into the distance.

He had a point. How could she have possibly known all that? It felt like she had _watched_ them, saw the things they did from day to day, everyday.

"What's up, Greenbean?" Minho asked.

"Would you stop calling me that?" she threw him an exasperated glance. "My name is Cassandra."

"That's what we call all our newbies here," he told her. "It'll only last for a month, when the _new_ newbie comes up."

"You get a new person every month?" she raised her eyebrows with interest.

"Like clockwork," he nodded. "Here."

He unstrapped his pack and rummaged around in it, then pulled out a small flask. She watched him open it and take a small swing before exhaling in satisfaction.

"Try some," he handed it to her, the corner of his lips pulled up slightly.

She took the flask in her hands gingerly then glanced back at him suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Just try it," he grinned.

Hesitantly, she placed the mouth of the flask to her lips and cocked her head back. Sour, spicy liquid slid down her throat, burning her insides as it went. She blanched and Minho laughed, slapping his knee as he did so.

"What is that?" she rasped.

"No clue," he shrugged. "One of Gally's recipes."

"Well, it's disgusting!" she said, her voice still sounding a little raw.

"It's an acquired taste," he chuckled, taking back the flask and having some more to drink.

"God, how can you like the stuff?" Cassandra grimaced.

"Stick around a little longer, Greenbean, and you'll see how," he winked at her.

She shook her head to show her chagrin. They sat in silence for a moment, and then she saw it- a flicker of silver bouncing off a metallic surface and a beam of red light pointed their way. She jumped, making Minho swear out loud.

"Chill out, it's just a beetle blade," he pointed.

"A _what_?!"

She didn't mean for her voice to sound so shrill, but it came out that way anyhow. Minho took hold of her arm and pointed at the ground again.

"Beetle blade," he repeated. "They're harmless. It's probably their way of spying on us."

" _Spying_ on us?!"

"Calm down!" he glanced at her. "Look up, it's started."

She tore her eyes away from the red beam on the ground and turned her gaze upwards. Her breath caught in her throat as a hundred little red dots flickered above them in the willow tree.

"Minho..."

"It's fine," he insisted. "They won't do anything to you. Just watch."

She tried to relax her body. Minho's warm hand around her arm helped a little bit but she was still perplexed at the swarm of beetle blades above their head. "There's like a hundred of them," she said in awe.

"They kind of remind me of fireflies up there," he told her.

She continued craning her head to look up. Now that he mentioned it, there was a slight semblance; except the light coming from these things were red and evil. Nothing like the soft warm glow from furry little winged insects fluttering about.

"I know that I've seen fireflies before," he went on. "I just can't remember where I've seen them, or when, and with whom. It's just a sort of vague memory. I know what a cheeseburger tastes like, and where milk comes out from a cow. I know what a jukebox is and how to use an oven. But I don't know how I know."

"Yeah... yeah, I have that too," she nodded.

"Sucks big time, huh?" he turned to her with a sad smile.

She asked Minho a few other things, about the Gladers, the Maze, the different jobs around the place. Throughout the entire time they spent there, that feeling of comfort persisted as if she'd done it a hundred times with him before. She hadn't realised how long they had sat there until a large yawn escaped her mouth.

That was Minho's signal to call it a night. He stood back up, helped her to her feet and they headed back towards the Homestead. A few of the guys were still up, sitting around the middle of the field with a gas lamp and laughing quietly. They paused when they spotted the both of them returning from the Deadheads and started wolf whistling.

"You go, Minho!"

"Someone's getting lucky tonight!"

Minho rolled his eyes.

"Bunch of shanks," he muttered under his breath but she caught it. He turned to her after that, speaking with his normal tone of voice. "Don't let them get to you, they're just klunkheads."

"It's fine," she shrugged. "I get it. I'm the _only_ girl in a Glade full of boys."

She didn't know how many times she'd heard it in that day alone, but she was starting to get sick of it.

"Yeah... you better watch yourself," Minho eyed her. "Stay close to the Keepers, Alby or Newt. Don't go anywhere out of our sights."

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied solemnly.

She really didn't want to think the worst of anyone- they were supposed to be looking out for each other and all that. But she was still a lone girl in a Glade filled with boys, practically all of them strangers to her and she had to remember that. Minho helped her string a hammock up next to his to sleep in. Then after a couple of minutes more of chatting, or more like warnings, they got into their little makeshift beds and fell asleep.


	4. CEDALIÔN

**ACT I SCENE IV**  
 **CEDALIÔN**

* * *

 _ **EVERYTHING WAS INTANGIBLE AND SURREAL**_ , _swirling around in her mind like particles lost in space. Glimmers of faces that were awash with stardust flashed across the empty landscape of her mind. Slowly, they came into focus, latching on and binding with one another._

 _There were people in white. "I've never seen anything like this before."_

 _Blonde hair, brittle bones._

 _The scent of clean skin. Brown eyes._

 _"We need you, Cassandra."_

* * *

There was a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey. Hey, wake up."

She started, gasping, but a hand clamped shut against her mouth. Newt's face hovered inches above her own and he pressed a finger to his lips as she stared up at him in bewilderment. They needed to stop greeting each other like this.

Behind him, she could see Minho shift in his hammock, a frown across his brows, before turning onto his other side. Newt slowly removed the hand from her mouth and gestured for her to get up.

"Come on, hurry."

She glanced at Minho's back then to Newt's retreating figure. Cassandra hurriedly got off her hammock and tiptoed after the blonde boy, dancing between outstretched limbs and heads lying on the grass. They crossed the empty expanse of the Glade towards a section of the wall covered in ivy, and she could see a pane of glass underneath all the leaves. Newt stopped in front of it, pushing some of the vines away to reveal a window covered in dirt and grime.

"What are we doing?" she asked carefully.

"You'll see," he replied simply. "Won't be long now."

Curiosity took hold of her and she moved closer towards the window to peer through. At first she couldn't see anything, then she managed to make out the stony interior of the Maze beyond. She looked up and down, left and right, examining every inch of it; long corridors that ended in turns or crossroads. She sat on her haunches and waited for another minute or two.

"What are we waiting for?" she asked over her shoulder, a tint of impatience in her voice.

"There... you hear that?" Newt held a finger up to his lips, and pointed to the window with his other hand.

She turned back around and looked, straining her senses, then she heard it. There was a mixture of mechanical whirring and a low hollow ringing, accompanied with the sound of something wet rolling across the ground. It was an eerily peculiar sound that made her hairs stand on edge. She continued to peer out the window with bated breath, feeling her heart pick up its pace in anticipation.

Then she saw it. Long metallic arms and spikes glinted palely under the waning moonlight, attached to the most hideous and repulsive body she could ever remember seeing. She ducked her head and felt her heart jump up to her throat. Whatever it was, she just knew it was no good. She could hear the abomination through the glass panel as it stopped right in front of them, then came a soul shattering sound, like a demon shrieking as it came out from hell.

She thought her heart had sputtered to a stop.

It was only until she heard the clicking of metal feet did she dare peek into the glass again. The creature had gone off down the long corridor in front of them, its hideous backside oozing grossly as it went. The only way she could describe it was that it resembled a giant bulbous slug with gooey skin and mechanical spider like limbs- a scientific experiment gone horribly wrong. She pressed her palms against her chest in an effort to calm her nerves, relieved that it was going away.

"That's a Griever," Newt said behind her. "They're the reason why we don't go out into the Maze... why we're safe here behind these Walls and why the Doors close every evening."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, too terrified and shocked to utter a single syllable.

"Get stung by one of those beasties and it's good shucking night unless you get a Grief Serum in time," he went on. "But you go through the Changing and it sucks."

She turned slowly to look at him and there was empathy in his eyes as he gazed back.

"Figured it was easier to show people what's out there. Stops 'em from running out, ya see."

Cassandra had absolutely no idea what to say, or how to even respond. Why would anyone want to run out there in the first place?

"It's why we stick to the rules," he continued. "Maintain order while the Runners map the place and try to figure a way out."

Her body felt cold, wanting desperately to get away from the window as far as she could possibly manage. She wanted to go back to the Homestead, curl up in her hammock and forget about what she had just seen.

"It's no joke out there."

"I get it," she spoke with an edge. "I get it, Newt."

"Good that," he replied with a nod. "It's almost time for the wake-up and Alby's gonna wanna talk to you."

"Sure."

She felt numb, the memory of the creature still seared into her retinas and brain cells. A weight of helplessness dropped down on her and even more questions popped into her head. Newt walked over and helped her back onto her feet. He let her hold onto his hand for a few seconds to steady herself. It felt nice to have human contact, she felt like her soul had just about departed from her body.

When they reached the Homestead, Newt parted ways with her, giving a little two-finger salute. "See ya later, Greenbean," he said and turned to the direction of the kitchen. Cassandra watched him leave for a few seconds before spinning on her heel. She blindly took a step forwards when she hit her face against something hard. No way there could have been a wall right behind her. A pair of arms reached out to grab her and she heard a familiar voice snickering.

"What's up, Greenbean?"

Minho. She grumbled something unintelligible under her breath and rubbed her nose. The boy looked over her head at Newt's retreating figure and managed to put two and two together. He crossed his thick arms, flexing his muscles somehow as he did so.

"So you got the view," he stated. "That's what I got to deal with every single day. No biggie, dude."

She wasn't sure whether he was trying to reassure her or he was just plain boasting but either way, she gave a huge sigh. All she wanted was to forget about the big creepy monster in the big creepy maze. Minho raised an eyebrow at her expectantly.

"I'm so glad," she said in a sarcastic monotone.

The corner of his lips twitched, and she could tell he was suppressing another laugh. He grabbed her around the shoulders suddenly, practically jumping on her and she cried out in surprise as he started dragging her along with him towards the Homestead.

"Come on, let's get some breakfast!" he said enthusiastically. "I'm starving!"

She didn't bother to protest and let him half-lead, half-drag her towards the dining area. The smell of scrambled eggs and bacon greeted her, along with some mushroom soup. They got themselves a serving and joined the throng of Gladers now congregating outside around the benches.

Minho was still talking to her and boy, did he really know how to talk, but she was glad for the distraction. Her nerves were still on edge, her mind lingering on the ghastly monstrosity lurking outside their walls, waiting for the perfect moment to sink its metallic appendages into unsuspecting flesh. Minho's voice felt like a sedative, slowly calming her with the exaggerated and animated way he talked.

"Hey," he looked at her suddenly, really looked, like he was trying to read her mind. "You good?"

"Yeah..." she blinked at his sudden question. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Good that," he gave a small smirk.

Something stirred in her chest and she looked back down at her plate with a small smile. A silence settled over them as they finished up their meal. Then Alby immediately came over, saying he needed to talk to her and gave Minho a dismissing look. She did not like Alby all that much.

"See you later, Greenbean," Minho cocked his head, stood up and made his way to one of the Doors.

"You, let's go."

She turned to scowl at Alby, who was already walking off towards the east side of the Glade and thought about flipping him off. Then decided not to. She hurriedly followed after him, almost tripping over herself on the way. He started talking as soon as she caught up to pace with him.

"We only got three rules," he started. "One: Everyone does their part. No slackers. Two: Never hurt another Glader. We have to trust each other. Three: Never go outside the Glade, unless you're a Runner."

"Sounds fine by me," she shrugged.

"Newt told me you put in a request to work in the garden or kitchen," he stopped and looked at her, hands on his hips. "That won't do. I don't care if you're a girl, no exceptions. You're gonna work to earn your place here just like the rest of us, Greenie."

She thought he looked like a drill captain about to sentence a new recruit to scullery duty.

"Alright, fine," she sighed in defeat. "You're the boss."

"Good that," he nodded satisfactorily. "Now you need to answer me truthfully."

Her senses perked up and she was staring at him with wide eyes, in a mix of dread and anticipation.

"You said you remember stuff, right?"

She nodded.

"You still remembering them?"

She nodded once more, waiting to know where this conversation was leading to.

"Right. We want you to be a Runner."

She almost blanched.

"But Newt said I wouldn't last a minute out there with the Grievers," she blurted out in a rush. The Grievers. Her mind reeled.

"Minho'll train you," he told her with a sigh as if he knew and didn't approve as well. "You can be his partner. We want you to look around the Maze, see if you start remembering anything. Anything at all. And technically, only Runners are allowed in the Maze."

She stopped and saw the reasoning behind the decision. It was true; she might be able to recall something about the Maze that could help them get out of this wretched place. It was a long shot, she doubted she would actually have any sort of memories like that, but it couldn't hurt to try. Alby could see her coming around to the idea.

"'Course, we're not gonna throw you in just like that," he said. "It usually takes a few months until we think you're ready. Until then, you're stuck in here like the rest of us."

She wasn't particularly opposed to that either. Alby gestured over his shoulder, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the Blood House. It looked absolutely miserable from where she was standing, the animals in the pen were still sleeping. A couple of the boys had only just gotten to their jobs and were hauling out the animal feed.

"Tradition for the Greenies is to work with the Slicers first job," Alby grinned crookedly at her.

Cassandra groaned in dismay. He patted her on the back, a loud thump resounding from it, and the impact made her sway forwards.

"It's just one day, then it's off to the Builders for ya," he still had his grin in place, starting to look a little scary now. She wished Newt was there. Or Minho.

"Right," she mumbled then stepped away from him, towards the Blood House. "Let's get this bloody thing over with then."

He let out a grunt that was meant to be a laugh, then a hard nod before leaving. She sighed as she headed towards the livestock. The stink hit her like a slap in the face and she had to wrinkle her nose up in disgust. A couple of Slicers greeted her cheerfully, she didn't really know them but they didn't seem so menacing. Or maybe it was just an act.

At any rate, the Keeper of the Slicers, the creepy one, came up to her and started bossing her around right off the bat. She tried to remember his name, it reminded her of cigarettes and old-fashioned pistols. Winston. That's what it was. It started out easy, Cassandra thought she would just while the time away shovelling pig crap out of the barn and catching chickens. A boy named Jack had been keeping an eye on her for most of the day, instructing her how to handle the animals and generally making sure she didn't accidentally set a stampede on the gardens nearby.

It was some time in the late afternoon, right before dusk, when she finished cleaning the barn. Cassandra leaned over the wooden enclosure of the cow pen, hating her life, when Jack found her again. He was like her designated babysitter for the entire day.

"Slacking off?" he crossed his arms and smirked slyly.

"Just admiring how well you've taken care of the cows," she responded without looking back.

He laughed at her. "C'mon, it's almost time."

"For what?" she groaned, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"The closing ceremony," he grinned brightly and she finally turned to him with a light scowl. "Why do you think we're called Slicers?"

"What?" she stared at him blankly.

Then Winston came over and beckoned them towards a room at the back of the barn. Finally, she realised what was happening. Jack wiggled his thick eyebrows at her with an excited glint in his hazel eyes and she felt emotionally cheated. She thought he was one of the nice guys.


	5. CERBERUS

**ACT I SCENE V**  
 **CERBERUS**

* * *

 **SHE INSTANTLY FELT A CHILL** the moment she stepped through the doors. Jack had brought in one of the pigs and placed it in the middle of the room. The heavy reek of blood saturated the slaughter den, dark red stains decorating the wooden interior. It was like walking onto the scene of a murder. Cassandra stood there mutely, simply staring, and Winston cocked his head.

"Come on, don't you wanna take a closer look?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

She opened her mouth to retort sarcastically, but stopped herself when she thought back to what Alby had said earlier. It seemed like the perfect opportunity for her to 'prove hersef' that she was as capable as any of them. For a moment, she wondered what Minho would do in her situation.

Cassandra took in a deep breath and took three steps forwards so that she was standing next to Winston. He held up an incredibly sharp knife that glinted under the fluorescent light.

"You wanna do the honours?" he asked, almost mockingly.

She grabbed the knife out of his hand, relishing the look of shock on his face before the anxiety set in. Why did she do that? She almost groaned out loud. The last thing she wanted to do was to kill a poor pig, let alone chop it up into little pieces.

Then something flashed across her mind. It was so quick, she almost missed registering it, but the knowledge, the feelings, lingered like a soft mist. The knife in her hand felt like an extension of her arm. She knew instantly where to strike, which vital points to hit, to make it a quick and clean death. Cassandra inhaled slowly, taking another big gulp of air. Were they memories...? She didn't want to know why she would have memories of something like that.

"Well?" Winston had gotten over his initial shock and was now getting impatient.

Jack stared at her with raised eyebrows, not really believing that she would actually do it, already expecting her to drop the knife and start bursting into tears. She knelt down next to the pig and placed a hand on the back of its head. It felt far too familiar; like she had done it before, but it had been so much worse that very first time.

She hushed the squealing animal until it finally settled into low grunts. It nuzzled her arm with its snout and looked at her with hopeful eyes. Her heart broke all over again, but something inside her told her that she could do it- something inside her had detached. As quickly as she could, she plunged the knife right into its heart. There was no sound, no struggle, the pig simply dropped to the ground. Dead.

The knife clattered to the floor and she took a step back.

"Bah... mercy killing," Winston said.

"It's still a life, Winston," she looked at him sternly. "Give it some respect, at least."

"Bah."

"Good job, Greenie," Jack said beside her, astonishment clearly marked on his face, before picking up the pig again.

Blood dripped from the open wound onto the floor. Winston told her to clean it up as he and Jack got to work on a blood soaked table at the back of the room. She sighed and looked around for a rag.

After that, she stood back to watch the boys gut and chop the pig up into pieces. It made her feel queasy, the dismembered body parts had been part of a living breathing animal just a few minutes ago. She scrubbed the table down after they were done and sent some of the meat to Frypan. It was already time for the Doors to close and the other Gladers were heading back towards the Homestead. She sat around the kitchen, drinking some orange juice and hating herself.

There was a tap on her shoulder and she turned to find Newt taking a seat next to her.

"How's it going, Greenbean?" he smiled.

"Oh, perfect, just perfect, Newton," she replied. "Slaughtering poor animals and shovelling crap out of the pens, all in a day's work."

His smile grew into a crooked grin and he cocked his head to the side, towards the courtyard. She looked over her shoulder and saw all the boys gathering around outside. Someone held their attention in the middle, and she saw Minho amongst them. He caught her eye and jogged over, grabbing her around the shoulders once again.

"There's the Golden Girl!" he was grinning from ear to ear now. "Winston's just telling us all about your first day at the Blood House!"

"Great," Cassandra groaned.

"I've never seen him so impressed before."

"What? I thought Winston hated me," she wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"Dude, no, he's like your number one fan now," Minho told her.

"This just keeps getting better and better," she covered her face with a hand.

"Reckon you'd make a fine Slicer, eh, Greenbean?" Newt poked her arm.

"God, please, no."

Minho took a seat on her other side, laughing as he did so. "No need to be so humble," he teased, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Cassandra groaned again in exasperation, which only made Minho laugh harder and Newt was chuckling as well. She was glad that they managed to find humour at her expense and rolled her eyes.

"It's only the first job," Newt tried to placate her. "Tomorrow, you're with the Builders and you'll have Gally to boss you around."

"The Builders," Minho shook his head then squeezed Cassandra's bicep. "I don't think she'll make the cut this time."

"You may be right, unfortunately," Newt nodded.

"Hey, come on, I can do some heavy lifting too," she tried to flex her arm but came up short. "Well, maybe not like you boys."

"Don't sweat it," Minho told her. "You don't wanna be a Builder anyway."

He was right, she didn't want to be a Builder. In fact, she would rather take her chances in the Blood House again than to be a Builder. It just wasn't the job for her at all.

"How'd you do it anyway?" Minho asked. "Winston said you pierced its heart so neatly, the poor swine probably didn't even know what happened to it."

"It felt like I'd done it before," she replied with a shrug. "I just went with what my instincts told me."

"Well, remind me never to bloody piss you off," Newt said.

"Done it before?" Minho frowned slightly.

"I don't know the details," she shook her head.

But as soon as she said it, she had an image of a dog float through her mind and her heart ached at it. The thought bothered her and she tried to push it out of her head. Newt must have noticed the sad expression on her face and swiftly changed the subject, telling them about one of the boys in the Garden tripping over himself that afternoon and landed face first in the mud.

As if things couldn't get any better for her, Alby came by. He nodded to her and gruffly said, "Good job, Greenie." Then buggered off to find some food. She ate with Minho and Newt, who were still the only ones she felt comfortable with. The both of them had been part of the original Gladers along with Alby, the Keepers and a few other older boys. The rest from their first group were gone now- which meant dead. She wondered what happened to them but thought it wouldn't be a particularly pleasant topic to bring up.

A thought suddenly occurred to her then. She had no idea what her age was, and she hadn't looked in a mirror yet. There had been a small rectangular one hanging on the wall in the bathroom, but she'd always been too preoccupied with her thoughts to examine her reflection. Alby certainly looked the oldest of the whole lot, probably around seventeen or eighteen. Her two companions seemed pretty much around the same age as well. She nudged Minho and asked him to guess her age.

"I'd say seventeen," he told her.

"Nah... I bet she's actually older," Newt said.

They bantered a bit, each of them joking about their own ages. Cassandra went off to have a shower, scrubbing down her old clothes and putting on a fresh set. She really doubted the rest of the Gladers were as hygiene conscious as she was, but she absolutely hated being filthy. Combing through her wet hair with her fingers, she finally looked into the mirror.

A pale girl stared blankly back at her and she was almost taken aback. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she wasn't sure whether it was from the stress or lack of sleep, or both, but it made her look haunted when she wasn't smiling. Her hair was thick and went past her collarbones in soft waves but she knew that when it dried, it would just look like a made-shift rat's nest. Her lips were small and half-full, her brown eyes looked almost hazel in the sunlight, framed with thick dark lashes. She vainly thought that she looked pretty, though she wasn't exactly sure what the standard of beauty was.

She jumped when there was a loud thump on the door. Minho's voice rang clearly through the wood, yelling at her to hurry the shuck up. Cassandra giggled despite herself and hurriedly collected her things, then she opened the door to an impatient Minho with folded arms.

"About time, shuck-face!" he yelled, barrelling past her into the bathroom. "I need to pee, man!"

The door slammed shut behind him.

"...Smooth," she raised her eyebrows and walked away.

She returned to the Homestead and hung her clothes up to dry. Heading back to the field, she found Newt lying down on a blanket just staring up at the sky. She hovered over him just like how he always did to her except he was taller and looked more intimidating than she did.

"You're blocking my light, Greenie," he told her.

"That's the point, Newton," she stuck her tongue in her cheek to keep herself from laughing.

"Come on, then," he patted the empty spot next to him on the blanket.

She got down on the ground and lied down beside his lanky frame. The sky was a flat dark blue expanse with no stars, no clouds and no moon. It was like an abandoned half-painted canvas.

"Does it always look like this?" she asked.

"Not all the time," he replied. "Sometimes you can see the stars, they twinkle like someone sprayed glitter over the shuck thing."

"Don't you think it's weird?" she frowned. "Like... the environment here seems a little too perfect, like it's been controlled."

Newt looked at her and shrugged. "We've thought about it. But there's not much we can do. Just as long as we have enough sun and water to keep the crops alive, it's good enough for us."

Something still bothered her about it though. Pretty soon, more and more Gladers came towards the clearing to sleep outside. The Homestead was too small to fit everyone comfortably so they all just slept outdoors on the grass or on hammocks because it was cooler. Minho came over with hands on his hips.

"You two look cosy," he said then threw himself down between them, squeezing into the little gap.

Newt and Cassandra had to wiggle their way to the side to accommodate him. Minho grinned cheekily and heaved a huge sigh as he crossed his arms behind his head. They laid in silence, taking in the sounds of the Glade; the soft rustling of blankets across blades of grass, floorboards creaking in the Homestead, a slight drift through the trees, someone sniffling in a corner, and the occasional tap of something metallic. She thought she almost heard whirring beyond the walls, and at least once every couple of hours the Grievers outside the Wall would wail. She fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE** :

*whispers* Winston is my small precious child.

Each review will be used to buy a fan to cool Minho down because hot damn son xx


	6. ANDROMACHE

**ACT I SCENE VI**  
 **ANDROMACHE**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA WAS UNCEREMONIOUSLY AWAKENED** by a poke in her side. She jerked, blinking her eyes blearily. When her vision came into focus, she could see Minho sitting in front of her with an arm resting on his knee. He smirked.

"Gooood morning, Greenbean."

She groaned in annoyance and shut her eyes as she continued to lie on the ground. All she wanted to do was to go back to sleep but Minho was having none of that. Eventually, she sat up, yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Newt had already gone ahead of them for breakfast and Gladers were rousing all around her. Minho poked her once again then stood up, clapping his hands together.

"Come on, Greenbean, you can do it!"

She scowled unhappily at him before slowly pushing herself up to stand. Minho grabbed her arm impatiently and pulled her to her feet. "Man, you're heavy," he teased.

Cassandra gave him a pathetic punch in reply. Grinning, the boy turned her around and started guiding her towards the Homestead. After cleaning up, they grabbed their food to join Newt and a couple of others at a table. Minho was the only one who was not half a zombie, chattering excitedly about one thing or other. She really wondered where he got all his energy from, whereas she felt as if she was going to face plant into her scrambled eggs at any given moment.

"You know," he started. "I'm almost tempted to not go out into the Maze today just to watch Gally boss you around, Greenbean."

"No, Minho, the fate of the Glade rests on your shoulders," Newt replied for her.

"I know," the older boy sighed dramatically. "It's tough being the hero all the time."

It took her an enormous amount of willpower not to roll her eyes; Newt had no such reservations though. After breakfast, they parted ways and Cassandra steeled herself before seeking out Gally. The tall, bulky boy was chewing on a blade of grass and leaning against the Wall when she found him. He spat the blade out of his mouth and walked forwards, sizing her up as he did so, before stopping right in front of her with folded arms.

"Let's see what you got, Greenie."

He hadn't even told her to do anything yet and she already felt like giving up. First, he handed her a little pouch of nails and a hammer. Her first task was to help him inspect the Homestead and she would just hold up planks while he hammered away at them. After that, the tough part started; they were going to build a tower.

Gally made her run around the entire Glade picking up pieces of wood, metal, bits of stuff, basically anything that they could use. He was the worst taskmaster anyone could ever ask for. When he caught her taking a breather, he'd bark at her and make her carry more stuff. He also made her the water carrier for the day. The entire time, Gally would just be leaning against a tree or something, watching them like a hawk.

She was an inch away from throttling him with whatever energy she had left. The other Builders weren't much help either as they took a cue from their Keeper and stacked piles upon piles of wood into her arms. And because she was the lightest of them all, they strapped a harness on her and pulled her up to the top of the tree they were building their tower against to secure the ladders.

Cassandra had to admit though; they were really good at their job as they were almost half done at the end of the day. Mercifully, they remembered to bring her back down to the ground where she promptly collapsed onto the earth. Gally came over and looked down at her indifferently.

"Well, you weren't completely useless," he said, as if as an afterthought.

"If I weren't so exhausted, I'd shank you," she replied breathlessly. "You shank."

"Ha!" he laughed. "I'd like to see that, Greenie."

Then he walked off. Newt came over a moment later and poked her cheek, not even bothering to hide his amusement. His eyes danced with it.

"I hate Gally," she complained.

"I dunno, I'm pretty torn about it," he said, grinning widely. "You look like klunk, Greenbean."

"Gee, thanks," she replied bitterly.

"Hey, Minho!" Newt yelled, waving the other boy over as he re-entered the Glade.

The Runner was back slightly earlier than usual; Cassandra turned her head to the side and could just about see Minho stop in his tracks. He took one look at her, pointed and doubled over in laughter. She made a disgusted sound as the boy walked over to them.

"Aw, man, I tried getting back early but l always miss all the fun!" he dropped down next to Newt and poked her cheek.

"Will you all stop poking me!" she swatted at the air.

"Yeah, Minho, they tied her with a rope and pulled her up the tree," Newt pointed. "Gally's really good at terrorising Greenies. Last month he made Jim climb the roof of the Blood House."

"I remember that, he fell into the pig pen," Minho guffawed at the image. "I swear he smelled for a week!"

"Greenbean here didn't do so bad," Newt said. "Not as fragile as she looks, eh?"

"Oh, yeah? Wanna test that out?" Minho looked up with an evil glint in his eye.

"No, Minho. No," she said warningly. "Don't you dare."

He stood up and placed his hands on his hips, grinning like a cat about to eat a canary. She started to push herself up before he could do anything but a sharp pain shot through the tip of her toes up to her ankle. Her entire body froze and she started crying out in pain. "Ow, ow! My foot! Cramp!"

They looked at her, startled, then were at her side in a flash. Minho told her to stretch her foot upwards to stop the contractions; he should know, he used to get them all the time from running. In the end, they helped her back to the Homestead anyway. After dinner, Cassandra collapsed onto her hammock and blacked out completely.

* * *

 _A wide river stood before them and escape._

 _She frowned and turned to her right, looking at the boy beside her for answers. He blew out a breath, steeling himself before glancing back at her with a hardened glint in his eyes that looked out of place on his young face._

 _"Take my hand," he told her. She did as he said and they took a step into the freezing water together._

 _The sun dipped beneath the horizon, taking some of the day's light with it. An orange fire seared through the thin clouds, making the sky look ablaze. They were halfway across the river when they heard screams behind them. Refusing to look back, they picked up their pace until she lost her footing and plunged into the tide. His grip on her hand tightened and he went after her, trying desperately to bring her back up to the surface. Her head broke through the swirling depths and she took a deep breath._

 _"Hold on to me!" he cried, kicking his legs out behind him._

 _She clung onto his shirt as they swam towards the opposite bank as the screams grew louder, pierced with maniacal laughter. "Run!" he took her hand again and they sprinted into the scorched woods. They ran and ran until they could run no more before taking refuge in a burrow under a dead tree, collecting dried leaves to pile at the entrance of the hole. Night fell around them and it grew eerily silent_ _, the drumming of their own hearts filled their ears_ _. They held onto each other and waited for another dawn to arrive._

* * *

Someone was lightly tapping on her shoulder. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Minho smiling beside her, the dimples in his cheeks showing. A faint morning glow surrounded them, catching the highlights in his hair and making his brown eyes a shade lighter. She yawned sleepily and rolled onto her back, rubbing her face at the same time. The Glade was still and quiet, interrupted only by a couple of snores from nearby. She turned back to Minho who was still smiling and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked.

"I found something yesterday," he said in a whisper. "In the Maze."

She blinked several times and slowly sat up, eyes now wide with curiosity, then he held up his hand to show her a bright yellow flower between his fingers.

"Where did you find it?" she asked in an equally hushed voice.

He shrugged. "It was growing out of a crack so I took it. Thought you'd like it. Girls like that, right? Unless my memory's totally shucked up."

He placed the flower in the palm of her hand and she beamed at him happily. There wasn't much she could do with it but it was pretty and it made her feel all warm inside. It would most likely wilt by the end of the day, but it was something- something that wasn't horrible or depressing like everything else in this place.

"Thanks, Minho," she said gratefully.

* * *

He looked at her and how her smile lit up her eyes. In that moment, he felt as if he had known her all his life, the only sliver of light in the blackhole of his existence before the Glade. As ridiculous as it sounded, he couldn't imagine it otherwise. Minho didn't care what anyone else would think of him, he was going to protect this girl with everything he had.

She needed it anyway, with how small she was. Some of the boys wouldn't hesitate picking on her if they found her on her own. Alby had been an inch away from throwing her into the Slammer with the way she was acting in the beginning. And he still couldn't forget the way she had called his name the first time they met. The way she looked at him, that can't be made up.

"Come on," he stood up from his crouch. "Time for wake-up, Greenbean."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

Awww she's starting to grow on him. If you think Minho is being a little eager then good, it's deliberate and you'll see why later ;)

Each review will be given to the Builders to build a giant treehouse because that would have been awesome xx


	7. ALAEDAE

**ACT I SCENE VII**  
 **ALAEDAE**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA MADE A BEELINE** for the bathroom first and took a relaxing warm shower. The smell of sizzling bacon wafted through the crack of the top window and it made her mouth water. Walking into the kitchen, she saw Newt and Minho sitting at a table with Alby. They looked up at the same time when she entered and she had a feeling that they'd been talking about her just before. She took a seat and Alby immediately left without a word, making her cock her head in puzzlement.

"Is Alby avoiding me?" she asked the other two.

"Naahh," they both answered, shaking their heads in sync.

It made her even more suspicious and forced her to remember that first day when they pulled her out of the Box. She hadn't spoken to Alby since the time he brought her to the Blood House so she didn't know what his problem with her was. Newt looked in her direction and immediately noticed the flower; she had braided her hair and tucked it into the hairband.

"Where'd you get that from?" he asked.

"I got it," Minho said smugly. Newt raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged. "Found it in the Maze."

Frypan announced that breakfast was now served and they rushed up to get a plate each. Cassandra started to take note of the routine. They would have breakfast together, then Minho would run out into the Maze and Newt went to work in the Gardens.

That day she joined him, since it was her turn to work with the Track-hoes. Their Keeper was a huge guy named Zart, with a long face and droopy eyes that made him look helplessly bored all the time. The boy was quiet with a brooding demeanour that made him seem unapproachable but she could tell that he had a soft side with the way he handled the plants. He taught her the basics; weeding, seeding and watering. That was about it. She immediately set off to work on a patch of tomato saplings after that.

Newt stopped by to have lunch with her, bringing over a plate with a mountain of sandwiches balanced on it. He worked on another side of the Gardens, helping to till the earth there for a new patch of crops.

"So what was it like being the first one to be sent to the Glade?" she asked.

"There were thirty of us," he told her. "Me, Alby, Minho, the other Keepers, Nick-"

"Nick?" she started. "I haven't seen him around the Glade at all."

"Nick is... a peculiar fella," he said carefully. "But he has a good head on his shoulders. A lot of us owe our lives to him, and he's the only person in this shuck place that can make a decision and we'll all go along with it."

"So he's- what? The real leader around here?" she asked.

Newt shrugged. "Somethin' like that. He always knows what's the best thing to do."

She was a little intrigued but decided it wasn't that important for the moment. The flower from Minho had already started to wilt and hung limply in her hair. She plucked it out and thumbed the now dull petals with a thoughtful expression.

"We can put requests in the Box, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, what d'you need?"

"Well, since I'm going to live here now, might as well make the most of it," she looked at him with a wide beam. "I thought maybe the place could do with some cheering up."

He chuckled. "You're like that fairy tale," he told her. "The one with the princess and the group of little men."

She remembered vaguely about listening to a story like that when she was a child, but it was beyond her mind's reach now. They finished what was left of their lunch and went back to the fields.

Zart came over to help her weed but it was still excruciatingly dull even though he had talked with her, and she started to look forward to the end of the day. Cassandra was putting away all the farming tools in a little shed at the back of the Gardens when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around, only to be grabbed into a half-hug, half-headlock. She recognised him from his scent before he even opened his mouth to speak.

"Minho!" she struggled against his grip while trying to slap at his arm.

"Greenbean!" he greeted her, grinning so widely he looked like he would burst.

He let go of her and she stumbled away from him, smoothing her hair back as she did so. The boy placed his hands on his hips and looked around.

"Yeah, I'm glad I got to be a Runner," he said. "Can't imagine picking out weeds in this place for a whole shucking year."

She sighed in dismay but was secretly glad to see him; that was what she started to look forward to. The Glade just wasn't the same without his snarky little remarks and overly optimistic attitude. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck and she saw the still fresh scrapes on his arm. She shot forward and grabbed hold of it.

"What happened?!" she exclaimed, examining the wounds.

"Saw the tail end of a Griever," he shrugged. "Almost slammed my face on the shucking wall. But then I tripped on a dumb vine and fell down."

"You saw a Griever?!" her eyes widened considerably and stared up at him.

"I see 'em all the time, Greenbean," he tried to play it down but she refused to accept it.

"What if it saw you and chased after you!"

"Then I'd be thoroughly shucked," he laughed and she hit him. "Ow..."

"Don't joke about things like that!" she scolded him. "Come on, let's get this cleaned up and bandaged. Seriously, Minho, have a little self-preservation."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the Homestead. He followed her lead, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand and looking slightly disgruntled, but there was a little smile on his face.

"You that worried about me out there, Greenbean?" he asked slyly.

"I'm not letting anyone or anything kill you," she retorted. "That honour belongs to me alone."

He snickered. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. I'm blushing."

She threw him a glare over her shoulder. Neither Clint nor Jeff were around in the Homestead. They went upstairs to the bedrooms that were saved for the injured or ill, and Cassandra raided the cupboards for medical supplies. She found bandages and disinfectant in one of the drawers then headed back to Minho, forcing him to sit on the bed and hold his arm out for her. He watched as she poured some alcohol onto a cotton ball and started dabbing it across the wound.

"I don't know why, but I feel kinda special," he smirked smugly.

She narrowed her eyes at him but didn't have the heart to retort sarcastically. He just looked like a little puppy sitting there, all content with dimples showing. Cassandra turned her attention back to the task at hand, discarding the cotton and starting to wrap his arm with the bandages.

She had never noticed the numerous scars criss-crossing his body before. There was even a small one under his left eyebrow, and another along his collarbone just visible beneath his shirt. His knuckles were raw and cut up too, his fingers rough and calloused.

"Have you been injured a lot while out there?" she asked quietly, clipping the bandage in place.

"Nah," he answered. "Not by the Grievers, anyway. There were a couple of close calls, but I've been a lucky shank so far."

So far. She didn't want to think about when his luck might just run out. Her lips were pressed together into a thin line, a frown creasing her eyebrows together. Minho reached over and tapped the wrinkle with a forefinger, prompting her to look up into his brown eyes.

"Stop worrying!" he told her. "Worry about the other kids who go in there. Me, I'm good."

She sighed and felt a little bad that she didn't know who the other kids were. They were risking their lives out there too, just like Minho. It was hard to admit it, even to herself, that she cared more about Minho than anyone else even though she only met the guy a few days ago. But she did know that if anything happened to him, she would be devastated. Minho stood up as she was thinking and tugged on her wrist.

"Come on, I'm starving," he told her. "And thanks for cleaning me up, you'd make the best Med-jack, Greenbean. I'll make sure to let Clint know."

"You don't have to..." she murmured.

He pulled her with him out of the room, down the stairs and towards the kitchen. For some reason, everyone had decided that they'd rather sit inside that day and the kitchen was crowded with boys trying to converse over each other. They found Newt crammed in a corner with another pale dark haired boy. She remembered his name was Andy, and that he was one of the Baggers.

"Hey," Newt greeted them as they sat down. "Think it's going to rain tonight."

"How can you tell?" she asked. There weren't any rainclouds or anything.

"Temperature's dropped," he replied. "Guess we'll be packed as bloody sardines later."

"Peachy," Minho commented dryly through a mouth full of spaghetti. "Sleeping side by side with you smelly shanks makes my day."

"What about her though?" Andy cocked his head at Cassandra.

She looked up at him in surprise and blinked. "What about me?"

"Obviously, she'll sleep with us upstairs," Newt said.

"That ain't a little bit of special treatment?" Andy sneered.

"Hey, dude," Minho started. "I don't give a shuck about what you think. Greenbean's staying with us."

"Yeah? What, you gonna sleep on the bed with her? Have her all to yourself? She's nothing but a shucking ta-"

"That's enough!"

Minho stood up, pushed his chair back roughly and grabbed the boy's collar like he was about to throw him out of the kitchen. Andy, acting on sheer blind instinct or whatever it was that possessed him, wrenched Minho's hand free and jumped him. They toppled to the floor with a loud crash, struggling angrily in a confusion of limbs. Andy threw out a punch but completely missed so Minho took the opportunity to grab his arm and twist it around his back, pinning him to the floor.

"Apologise, you shucking shuck-faced shuck," he growled.

"Why? Cause I'm speaking the truth, aren-"

Minho whacked the back of his head with more force than necessary. Everyone stared at them incredulously, not really knowing what to do or just too surprised to move. Minho pulled the boy up by the collar so their faces were just inches apart.

"Give me just one good reason," he seethed.

"Okay, alright, I'm sorry!" Andy finally whimpered. "Let go!"

Minho shoved him backwards and his body slammed down onto the wooden floorboards. The Keeper stood back up and brushed himself off. He looked around at the rest of the Gladers in the room.

"What?" he snapped. "Got a problem too?"

"Slim it, man, and get back here," Newt waved his hand from their table.

Minho stalked back to them and sat down. He glanced at Cassandra who was still staring at him in awe and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Sorry you had to see that," he mumbled.

"Are you okay?" she whispered back, leaning forwards in concern.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, a hint of a smirk on his lips. There was something behind his eyes that she couldn't quite place.

"Is that all you care about?" he asked softly, but it didn't seem to be taken as a mean remark.

She leaned back in her seat and glanced at Newt who was shaking his head. Someone had already helped Andy up and brought him away to the opposite end of the kitchen. The blonde finally looked at them and there was disappointment in his eyes. Tongue in cheek, he stared at Minho for a moment before finally speaking again.

"I've been listening to that shank harping on and on about her the entire day. Was actually hoping you'd get a punch in, to be frank."

Cassandra had no idea what was going on but she felt touched that they would stand up for her although she felt too embarrassed to look them in the eye. She had figured that some of the boys had a problem with her, mostly trust issues, but she definitely was not expecting that.

The rest of the evening was a dull affair in comparison and then the rain came pouring down. She was crammed into one of the rooms upstairs with all the Keepers and tried to insist that Alby have the bed since he was the oldest, but everyone else insisted that she take it since she was the only girl.

There was a crack of thunder from outside but it sounded off to her, felt hollow. The boys slept in two rows on either side of the room with the bed pushed against the left wall. There was a small bedside table next to it with an old fashioned lamp sitting on top looking quaint and out of place.

They chatted, mostly about nothing, and asking her whether she remembered more things that they didn't. She still had no idea whether her dreams were memories or just dreams. But if they really were memories then...

She wasn't sure. None of them had been all that pleasant so far, and she was actually afraid of remembering. What if they had all forgotten the past for a reason?

Eventually, everyone nodded off to sleep. Cassandra felt as if she was slipping slowly into a dark haze as consciousness slowly ebbed away from her. Just at the last moment, she heard a faint whisper, almost indiscernible yet distinct at the same time. It swirled around her like a poisoned veil, twisting into every crevice of her mind. A girl's voice that sounded unfamiliar to her. She said only four words.

" _You_ _were_ _a_ _mistake_."


	8. CASSANDRA

**ACT I SCENE VIII**  
 **CASSANDRA**

* * *

 **NEWT USUALLY NEVER HAD DREAMS** during his entire time in the Glade or he couldn't remember any of them upon awakening. But that night, he dreamt of Cassandra. She tiptoed across the room, singing a song that made absolutely no sense to him while peeking down at the faces of the other boys in turns. Then she reached him. Her eyes were wide, unblinking and glazed over with a serene smile plastered across her face. She bent down, so close to him that he could feel her breath on his skin, and her lips brushed against his ear.

" _How should I your true love know_  
 _From another one?_  
 _By his cockle hat and staff_  
 _And his sandal shoon."_

It made every follicle of hair on his body stand on end. She pulled away from him and turned towards Minho who was still fast asleep. Cassandra caressed his face gently, pressed her lips against his cheek and stood back up, turning around in a full circle before walking towards the door. Newt felt his body relax again as she exited the room. The door creaked open and he could hear her soft footsteps walking down the corridor. Her voice drifted further away and the squeaking floorboards told him that she was descending the stairs.

Minho had woken up then and looked around blearily. When his eyes landed on the empty bed, he threw his covers off as he quickly sat up and scanned the entire room. Newt remained on the floor, motionless, but stared back with wide eyes.

"Where'd she go?" Minho whispered anxiously.

With a cold realisation, Newt slowly sat up and dread washed over him. _This wasn't a dream._

"Newt! Did you see where she went to?"

"S-she went downstairs... I think... Minho, something's wrong..."

"What d'you mean?" the older boy frowned in confusion.

"She doesn't... seem herself..."

"We need to find her," Minho darted towards the door.

With little time to think and not knowing which choice was the right to make, Newt shook Alby awake. He quickly hushed him before the Glader could curse him out and wake the others.

"Something's wrong with the girl," he said quickly.

Frown deepening, Alby got up almost immediately and the two went after Minho. They stepped out of the Homestead where a steady drizzle slowly started to seep into their clothes. Minho was already halfway across the open field, heading in the direction of the Box. Beyond him, they could see Cassandra's figure wrapped in a white sheet, who knew where she had found it. She was staring up at the sky, her hair now matted and plastered to the sides of her face. Her eyes were distant and unfocused, her jaw slacked as if she could see the future in the heavens.

"What's wrong with her?" Alby asked, approaching with caution.

"Shuck if I know," Newt replied. "Maybe she's sleepwalking?"

They reached Minho, who had stopped a metre away from the girl with a helpless look on his face and he turned to his friends for help. She was still singing that gibberish song of hers- it made even less sense than it did before.

" _Tomorrow is Saint Valentine's day,_  
 _All in the morning betime,_  
 _And I a maid at your window,_  
 _To be your Valentine."_

A giggle bubbled forth from her and she pressed her fingers to her lips to stifle it. They had absolutely no idea what to do and simply watched her. After a long while, she finally turned to them, swaying from side to side as she hummed hypnotically.

"Cassandra..." Minho said her name for the first time.

There was a treble of fear in his voice as he took a tentative step forwards. He held his arm out in front of him but she ignored it, lost to whatever thrall that had her captured. He continued to inch forwards and reached out to touch her hand. In a split second, too fast for any of them to comprehend, she winced and screamed an ear splitting shriek before dropping to the ground in violent hysterics. She squirmed and quivered, fingers fidgeting uncontrollably, her eyes darting in every direction.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she started saying feverishly. "I didn't know, please, I didn't know! It was a mistake, I swear!"

She let out a low whine and wailed loudly like a wounded animal.

"Three. Eight. Eleven. Seventeen. Twenty. Too many. Can't stop. It's spreading. They're coming after us; they're going to kill us. There's no choice, we need to find the cure. We need to find the cure. The cure- it's our only hope. He'll find a way out for us- the hole- the sequence- WICKED is good. WICKED is good. WICKED is good."

With another anguished cry, she collapsed onto her back and fell unconscious. There was a moment of silence as the three boys stared down at her with stricken expressions. Newt was the first to speak.

"What the _bloody_ hell was **that**?"

* * *

"I knew it. I _knew_ from the very beginning that she was trouble."

"We don't know what that was all about, we can't-"

"She's dangerous! Don't be a shuck fool!"

She recognised the voices through the thick fog of her sleep. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve fibre in her being set ablaze in a searing pain. But she couldn't move, couldn't even gather her thoughts into anything sensible, and the voices continued arguing.

"Look, I'm just saying, it must be a trick. Something they came up with, it has to be."

"I don't shucking care, you were there. You heard the things she said!"

"We don't even _know_ what she said!"

"Shut up, you shanks! She's waking up."

Cassandra peered through heavy-lidded eyes and tried to blink the exhaustion away. The fire in her veins dulled into a deep ache, but her skin still felt flushed and clammy. She could see Alby and Newt standing in the middle of the room, looking at her over their shoulders. The older boy looked like he was trying to make her disappear with his eyes. Someone next to the bed took her hand and she knew before looking that it was Minho.

"Hey," he said quietly. "How're you feeling?"

He brushed away the strands of hair from her face and she moved her head weakly to look at him. Concern etched his face with deep furrows and her heart skipped a beat as she instantly knew that something was wrong. She tried to sit up but her limbs protested and she groaned hoarsely from the effort. Minho placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't," he said. "Just lie down."

"Did something happen?" her voice sounded like crackling paper and her throat felt raw.

He hushed her. "Just rest."

"What were you two arguing about?" her eyes slid to the two other boys.

"Cass..." Newt started but Alby interrupted him.

"What do you remember?" his voice had a hard edge to it, like he was using all his willpower not to throw her against the wall.

He probably was by the way he was clenching his fists so hard; his knuckles were almost bone white. She swallowed and racked her brains for an answer but there was nothing. The last thing she remembered was closing her eyes to the sound of their snoring.

"I remember falling asleep."

" _Liar_!" he yelled so loudly that everybody flinched.

"Alby!" Newt turned to him aghast.

Cassandra felt her body instantly shrinking away from them, withdrawing herself into a tight ball against the side wall. Minho looked at her with sympathy and it made her feel even more pathetic than she already was. Her mind was reeling, fear starting to creep through her veins.

"What happened?" she asked again, her voice wavering.

Minho turned to look at Newt but the blonde simply stared back with an apprehensive expression. The Runner turned back to her then, and he looked like he was having an internal struggle with himself. She clenched her jaw at them and swallowed in an effort to ease her parched throat.

"Come on, I'm a big girl, I can take it," she said without conviction.

He took a deep breath. "You went crazy."

The ludicrous look on her face prompted him to explain further. He told her what happened since he woke up; that she went outside in the rain, to the middle of the Glade, singing nonsense. And then the screaming. They didn't remember everything she said in her hysteria but none of it made any sense either. Newt added what he witnessed prior to that as well and Alby remained silent as he continued glaring down at her. She could only stare back at them speechlessly, lost in utter disbelief.

"You remember none of that?" Newt asked gently.

She shook her head fervently. "I swear I don't!" she cried, desperation in her voice.

"We believe you," Minho said quickly.

"I-I don't know how..." she tried to process what she'd learnt but it was beyond her capability. "I-I don't..."

Alby suddenly left the room, stalking away and slamming the door shut behind him. She buried her face in her hands and tried to breathe through her shallow gasps.

"Cassie..." Minho touched her delicately. "It's okay."

"What's wrong with me?" she asked, her voice muffled.

"Nothing's wrong with you," Newt said stonily. "It's those bloody shanks out there, wherever they are. They must be controlling you or something. Doing weird things to your head and shucking with us at the same time."

She looked up at him with wide eyes, the thought of that scared her even more. If she was under control, that some kind of external force could propel her to do something she had no idea of...

It terrified her more than anything.

"H-how do you know that?" she asked almost reluctantly.

"It happened with Nick. He got stung and went through the Changing. After that, every time he'd try to tell us about something he remembered, he'd start choking himself. Absolute no control."

Her face returned to her hands and she felt like crying, breaking down or just disintegrating into nothing. Minho tried to comfort her but he sounded as far as the moon, her thoughts were a cacophony of chaos.

"Cassie! Calm down!"

She hadn't realised that she'd started hyperventilating and Minho looked almost as scared as she felt. Cassandra took a deep shuddering breath of air and nodded her head jerkily as she got her nerves under control again. She still couldn't accept any of it and fear continued to gnaw at her, making her feel sick.

Newt tried to coax her out of bed to get something to eat but her limbs were stiff and pain shot through them in certain angles. They had to slowly help her stand on her feet and she clung to Minho's arm as she put one foot in front of the other. It was like recovering from a terminal illness.

News of her 'possession' had spread across the Glade like wildfire and the other boys stared at her as she passed by. Most of them were afraid of being in the same room as her and they gave her a wide berth. Cassandra kept her head down and avoided eye contact with everyone, feeling ashamed of herself. She followed them to the kitchen counter as Newt got a plate of chicken Kiev for her and Frypan gave her a sympathetic look as they made their way to a table.

"Can you manage?" Newt asked her kindly.

She nodded and picked up the cutlery. The garlic and butter tasted like lighter fluid in her mouth as she forced herself to swallow it whole and take another bite. She almost gagged.

"Take it easy," Minho said. "Don't force yourself."

She slumped her shoulders with a heavy sigh and lowered her fork. It felt like the entire universe was suffocating her and she couldn't stop thinking about what they had told her. What she did. It kept niggling at the back of her mind. _Why her?_

" _Because you were a mistake._ "

She froze.

" _An anomaly_ ," the voice continued. " _A freak of nature._ "

She pressed her palms against her ears. It started as a whisper, and the voice grew louder with each passing second until it sounded like someone was speaking directly to her. But no one was talking. The Homestead was as silent as a grave and it was a girl's voice.

" _You don't get it, do you?_ " it laughed mockingly. " _You should have died too._ "


	9. MANTEIS

**ACT I SCENE IX**  
 **MANTEIS**

* * *

 **SHE STOOD UP FROM THE TABLE** , startling Minho and Newt, before running upstairs. Cassandra ignored their calls, Frypan's frightened stare and the pain screaming through her body. Her heart raced as she went back to the room they had been sleeping in the night before and locked the door. Soon after, there was the thunder of footsteps booming up the stairs and down the corridor, then the door shook with their knocks.

"Cassandra! What's wrong?!"

"Wait! Just wait!" she yelled through excruciating pants and turned around as if the voice might just materialise in front of her as a person.

" _There's nowhere for you to hide._ "

It sent her heart jumping to her throat. Maybe she really was insane.

"Who are you?" she asked in a terrified whisper.

" _Why are you still alive?"_

She shook her head, not knowing whether the mystery voice could hear or see her. It was so clear, like it was speaking right next to her, but all evidence pointed to the contrary. There was no mistaking that something was undeniably wrong with her as she tried to sort her fear into manageable proportions. How and why? Those were the two main questions that burned in her consciousness. Then Newt's words came back to her mind; The Creators. If they could control Nick to strangle himself, could they be able to control her brain into hearing voices as well?

Something familiar constricted her throat and chest at the realisation- searing hot anger that pumped through her veins like gasoline.

"Who are you?" she hissed through clenched teeth, eyes darting around the room in search of a clue. There must be a beetle blade watching her right at that instant.

" _Aw, are you trying to be brave?_ " the voice continued to mock her.

"What do you want from me?" Cassandra snapped. "What's the point of all this?!"

"Cassandra, who are you talking to?" Newt asked through the door but she ignored him.

" _You were a mistake_ ," it repeated the same phrase contemptuously over and over again until the voice slowly receded to the back of her mind, like an echo bouncing further away.

The door suddenly burst open loudly as Minho came barrelling through, crashing into her and sending the both of them toppling to the floor in a tangle of limbs. He groaned in pain before grabbing her shoulders.

"Cassie! What are you doing?!" he looked at her, demanding for answers.

She stared back at him in dumb shock. "Did you just break down the door?!" she asked incredulously.

"Cass, who were you talking to?" Newt came limping in and looked about the room as if someone would jump out of the drawers.

"The voice in my head," she replied dryly.

They looked at her carefully, not quite sure if she was being serious. She pushed Minho off her and scrambled to get up. Cassandra walked across the room to open the window in dire need of some fresh air. The Glade looked as normal as it ever did, everyone resuming their daily activities, oblivious to what was happening in that room. She turned back around. Minho had backed away from her to stand next to Newt, who had shut the door as best as he could with a broken handle.

"Cass..." the blonde's voice was hesitant.

"Okay, just listen," she told them anxiously, her heart beating nervously in her chest.

"Okay," Minho nodded, putting on a brave face as if he was going to war.

She refrained from rolling her eyes. "Please don't freak out on me because I'm telling you the absolute truth."

"Right..." Newt encouraged her to continue.

"I..." she swallowed with hesitancy. "I heard a voice in my head."

Newt's eyebrows pulled together into a tight knot in the middle of his forehead and his dark eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to make sense of what she just said. Minho had a look of indiscernible shock on his face, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Her breaths started to come out shallow at their reactions and her voice shook. "I-I can't be crazy. Right? You said it yourself, Newt, the Creators can control us. M-maybe they did... something to me."

Cassandra felt her body start to tremble with fear, shock, paranoia, she wasn't sure which emotion was coursing through her blood but it made the two boys soften their expressions. She inhaled an unsteady breath before speaking again.

"I don't know what's happening," she clarified. "I don't know why I'm different. Maybe it has something to do with my dreams, I think they're memories. If I could remember something-"

"What makes you certain?" Newt interrupted her. "What if they're false memories?"

Her gaze turned to Minho unintentionally and she shook her head. "They can't be..."

"Why are you looking at me?" the boy asked her with uncertainty.

"Because you were in them," she said plainly. "You were in them and we were kids. And ever since I saw you, I _knew_ you."

"We can't be sure," he replied, shaking his head. "Cassie, we don't know what to believe. Everything is shucked up here and we have to think about what those Creators are capable of doing. We already know that they can control us. They put those shucking Grievers in the Maze to terrorise us and this whole shuck place is messed up beyond anything."

"I know, I _know_..." she nodded and her chest contracted painfully. "But... don't you feel it too?"

He paused and looked at her as her eyes implored him to say yes. She didn't know how to put her feelings into words. Her thoughts would always wander back to him, her gaze always scanning the crowd for his face- like an old habit that wouldn't go away. Didn't he feel that too? Minho shook his head.

"I... I don't know," he let his gaze drop to the floor. "They won't let me remember anything. Not even a tiny hint."

Her heart sunk.

"You're not the only one," Newt said. "But a few have had dreams. They swear they must be memories. And the buggers who went through the Changing. But we're never sure. We can't know. Not now, anyway."

"But Cassie... who was in your head?"

"I don't know either," she frowned. "But she kept saying I was a mistake."

Minho and Newt exchanged quick glances.

"I'm not crazy," she looked up at them despondently. "I swear I'm not. I can't be. I don't know what's happening."

"Cassie, it's alright. Calm down," Minho told her worriedly.

She slumped onto a chair by the bedside, feeling completely drained and miserable. The adrenaline rush had made her forget about the pain in her body and it returned like a cascade. She closed her eyes and tried to think through it. There had to be an explanation for everything that had happened to her so far. She can't be crazy.

The door creaked open, interrupting their thoughts, and they looked up to find a boy entering the room. He was a tall and lanky kid with shaggy brown hair and dull green eyes, as well as the only person she'd seen in the entire Glade who wore glasses. His face looked worn despite his young age, as if he had seen things that were beyond his years. He looked at Newt and Minho before resting his vacant gaze on her.

"Nick?" Newt's face screwed up in confusion.

"Hey, guys," he said in a low lazy voice. "Mind if you get out? I need to talk with the girl."

"Nick, what the hell?" Minho sounded exasperated. "You can't just waltz in here and kick us out. Dude, you've never even spoken to Cassie before."

"It's cool, dude, I can handle myself."

They merely continued staring at him with various expressions ranging from blank, confused and frustrated. The boy didn't seem the least bit perturbed by their reactions.

"Come on, man, just a couple of minutes," Nick shrugged his shoulders casually. "It'll be real quick. You can stand outside the door and eavesdrop or whatever."

"Then what's the point of kicking us out if you're going to let us listen in?" Newt snapped.

He shrugged again. "It's a little crowded in here."

"I am one inch away from breaking your shucking glasses," Minho stated irritably.

"It's fine," Cassandra spoke up. "Just let him have his way."

"Cassie..."

"It's fine," she repeated, looking sharply at them. She couldn't handle another argument if it broke out again.

Minho looked as if he just swallowed something sour, then he sighed and nodded stiffly.

"We'll be _right_ outside this door," he said. "Don't you dare do anything stupid, shuck-face."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," Nick gave a dull two finger salute.

Newt and Minho shuffled out of the room and made a show of standing by the door with their arms crossed. Nick shut the door in their faces and it stayed close, as if in league with the boy. He then walked towards Cassandra and dragged the other empty chair forwards, turning it around and resting his arms on its back. She stared at him and waited for him to speak.

"I know what you are," he finally said.

"Excuse me?" she asked, unimpressed.

"You're a mistake."

She could hear a little voice laughing inside her head.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

Nick finally comes into the picture! I love him honestly even though he can be such a troublemaker sometimes. And yup, the mysterious voice is a telepath and so is Cassie! We're not going to know who it is anytime soon though ;) but Cassie already has enough issues to deal with.

Each review is used to feed Tommy's appetite for cheese (pass it on) xx


	10. ORESTES

**ACT I SCENE X**  
 **ORESTES**

* * *

 **"I THOUGHT I WAS THE CRAZY ONE,"** she said dryly.

Nick remained unfazed. He shifted in his seat and lifted his hand on the chair for his face to perch on. "We're all a little crazy here," he said, a smile playing about his lips. "But let me explain."

"Please do."

"I've seen you," he told her. "During the Changing. And a couple of others, with the Creators. Do I have your attention now?"

She ignored his jab and waited for him to continue. He sucked his teeth and looked like he was trying to phrase his words carefully.

"I know there's a reason behind your crazy," he leaned forwards, his eyes gazing at her owlishly. "And I know that things are just going to get crazier. Not yet though. But when the real crazy happens, then we'll know that it's time for The End."

She stared at him blankly; it made absolutely no sense to her and he was just making her head hurt even more than it already was. Cassandra closed her eyes, rubbed her furrowed brows in irritation and took a weary breath.

"Thanks, that's very helpful," she sighed.

He shrugged his bony shoulders again; it seemed like a chronic habit of his.

"I'm just saying, dude, there's a reason for you acting crazy," he pointed. "You can try driving yourself _real_ crazy by figuring it out, but we'll never know until we break outta this place. Or they send the others u-"

His hands suddenly flew up to his throat. Cassandra jerked backwards in surprise so hard, she hit the back of her head against the wall with a loud crack. She cried out in pain, cradling the injured spot, when the door immediately slammed open at the sounds of their commotion. Minho and Newt raced towards the other boy and struggled with him, managing to pry his hands off of his throat but his body continued to convulse violently.

"I knew this would bloody happen!" Newt shouted.

"You and I both!" Minho grunted.

Nick's leg kicked his chair forwards and the piece of furniture knocked against Cassandra's shin. She cursed violently this time and bent over to rub her injured leg. Loud thuds resounded around the room as Nick kicked furiously at the wooden floor. It was like he had become a crazed beast that had no control over its own body.

"Cass, when you can, try grabbing his bloody legs," Newt told her, voice strained with effort.

She clenched her teeth tightly and threw her entire weight on the boy's lower limbs when she saw the opportunity. It took up all her energy to hold them in place; he was a lot stronger than he looked. After a long moment of choking sounds, as Minho had stuffed part of the blanket in Nick's mouth to stop him from biting his tongue off, he finally stopped convulsing. The two boys slowly lowered him down onto the floor and Cassandra let go of his legs.

Nick's chest heaved up and down with laboured breaths as he rasped. "Thanks... dudes..."

"You shucking shank," Minho seethed. "Every shucking time..."

"Cassandra..." Nick said through pants. "Don't... listen... to... them..."

Then he passed out and Minho made a disgusted sound.

"Come on," he took Cassandra by the arm and helped her up. "Let's get out of here."

"Um... what about him?" she pointed at Nick.

"Just leave him. Who cares?"

Newt shrugged in agreement and turned towards the door. They left the room and went out of the Homestead. The grass was still wet from last night's rain and the sky was a flat dusky purple. They walked to an empty part of the Gardens and sat down on a makeshift bench comprised of a long piece of wood lying between two tree stumps. Cassandra perched herself on the edge, as did the other two and there was a moment of awkward silence as they tried to figure out what to say.

"The thing about the Changing," Newt was the first to start. "Is that it's exactly what it is; it changes you. Nick hasn't been the same since then. It happened just a few days before you arrived in the Glade. He got stung while running back, had us all worried- Alby especially."

"Yeah, that shank's been off the rocker ever since. But at least he still has some sanity left," Minho snorted.

"What does that mean?" Cassandra frowned.

"Some of the fellas who got stung went mad," Newt explained to her. "Just bonkers, yeah? The Changing was just too much for 'em."

"Do people really get their memories back when they go through the Changing?" she asked.

"They do, but they're either too scared to talk about it or they go mad," Newt told her. "Nick's been harping on about The End ever since. Just when he starts to make an ounce of sense though, he starts strangling himself."

"They don't want him to tell us," she stated. "There must be some truth to it then?"

"Don't waste your time on it," Minho shook his head. "Even if there was, they'll never let us find out from him. They're too fond of watching him have a seizure."

She sighed and went back to staring at the muddy ground. Nick was a dead end as well and she didn't want to set him off anymore than she wanted to meet a Griever up close. Everything frustrated her- herself most of all. Cassandra leaned forwards and rested on her knees, wringing her hands. How was she possibly going to get through this?

* * *

The next few days passed without any notable event. She had gone through the whole rotation of jobs and now waited for whoever, Alby or someone, to decide where she should be assigned to. From what she had heard, Gally made absolutely no interest of having her on his squad. Neither did Jackson, the Keeper of the Baggers.

She didn't feel like she was being left out on either of them. Gally's crew just made her angry all the time and Jackson's creeped her out way more than the Blood House team. Although she wasn't completely hopeless at any one job, she wasn't particularly great at any of them either. She'd been sitting around in the kitchen, helping Frypan prep some chicken for tonight's dinner when Alby walked in. He spotted her and sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"So I heard back from the Keepers and we decided," he started. She raised her eyebrows and waited patiently for him to continue. "Minho will start training you tomorrow."

"I'm sorry," she closed her eyes briefly. "What?"

He shrugged and looked away, anywhere but at her. Cassandra guessed he still wasn't over her little incident. She'd been treading carefully around him ever since, as if he was some kind of minefield waiting to explode on her.

Most of the Gladers had started to act normal around her again and the ones who didn't gave her even nastier glares than ever before. Minho's warnings that first night after she woke up from her mini coma had become totally relevant. She didn't care if she had to surgically attach herself to them, but she refused to be anywhere without a Keeper in her immediate vicinity. She was pretty terrified of being caught on her own, and now it seems she had another problem dropping into her lap.

"Nick was determined to make you a Runner and Minho agreed to it," Alby scowled. "Those shanks. A couple of us protested but the majority were up for it."

"Why?" she almost demanded. Did _she_ not have a say in the matter?

"You're not a shucking idiot that I have to explain it to you, are you?" he glanced at her heatedly. "We don't need you in here and both Runners were extremely vocal about that. No wonder the others all agreed."

She didn't get it, and she was riddled with confusion. With Nick, she could understand _him_ pushing for it, there was something he knew about her that nobody else did. But Minho? From what little she knew, being a Runner had always been an arduously drawn-out process that took time and a lot of tests. Why the sudden rush? She was confident in her ability to run marathons, she felt fit enough for the task, but being out there- being a Runner, was something completely different. Cassandra wasn't sure she was ready for something like that.

"You don't wanna be a Runner?" Alby asked after a brief pause.

"Didn't you say that it usually took months for someone to be a Runner?" she asked, feeling her breath starting to hitch. "Newt said only the best become Runners."

"If Minho thinks you're ready," he told her with a weary sigh. "Then you're ready."

"I don't know about this, Alby," she stood up from her seat, a knot starting to wrestle itself in her stomach. "I've only been here for like a week."

"You scared?" he looked at her, a hard look on his face.

She gulped and nodded her head jerkily.

"Good. At least I know you're still human."

"Alby, man," she exhaled in frustration. "Help me out here. I honestly have no clue what's going on! I'm in way over my head."

"I know," he replied and his demeanour relaxed just a fraction. "And I've been a real klunk to ya, so we'll just shake on it, alright?"

She bit her lip when he held his hand out then took it, gripping firmly as she shook with him. They let their arms drop to the side and the animosity between them did feel like it dissipated a little bit. Cassandra still didn't trust him not to suddenly grab her by the throat and fling her across the Glade any second though, but at least he wasn't being a total jerk to her anymore.

"If the running gets too much for ya," he said. "Zart or Frypan'll take you in. They said so. In the end, you still got your pick, huh? Lucky shank."

Her lips twitched up at the side and she murmured a small yeah. Alby walked out of the Homestead and she was left alone again. Cassandra slumped down into a chair and took a deep breath as she rubbed her face with a hand. Runner. Why did the word feel like a death sentence hanging over her head?

With not much else to do, she lied down on a hammock outside and fell asleep.

She was woken up a couple of hours later by Newt calling her in for dinner and she followed the blonde blearily back into the kitchen. Minho came crashing into her, talking excitedly, but she barely heard anything he said.

"I keep telling you shucks we need more manpower, man, like do you have any idea how huge it is in there?! We need more eyes on the ground!"

"Minho, just bloody slim it," Newt grumbled. "You're gonna scare her off before she even steps in."

"Nah, Cassie's made of steel," he patted her on the back. "Right, Cassie?"

"Sure, I eat steel for breakfast," she nodded sleepily.

"'Atta, girl."

After dinner, she ended up playing card games with Minho and Newt. Bark, the resident dog of the Glade, laid curled at her feet underneath the table. He was usually hanging around the Blood House so she hardly ever saw him. Cassandra thought he was a German Shepherd and Schnauzer mix, though she wasn't exactly sure where the knowledge came from.

A Griever shrieked outside the Walls, sounding like it was lurking just outside the East Door. It reminded her about her newly appointed task for the next day again and her heart sank. She couldn't say she was excited to go out there, to put herself directly in their line of vision.

Newt finally called it a night and she went to sleep in a hammock next to them.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

My poor girl, she's actually terrified of the Maze but on the up side, she gets to spend loads of extra time with Minho. Even though they can't really talk to each other... and she'll be hating life... but um... he has a nice butt?

Each review is used to buy Minho's hairspray xx


	11. AKRISIOS

**ACT I SCENE XI**  
 **AKRISIOS**

* * *

 **THE FOLLOWING MORNING** , Minho woke her up bright and early. It took her a considerable amount of effort to get out of her hammock but a great deal more not to just roll off and fall onto the ground. And maybe burrow herself into it. She quickly used the bathroom and met up with Minho around the back of the Homestead. He cocked his head to the side and gestured for her to follow him.

They came to a little shack, which he unlocked with a brass key. Inside was a dusty and mothball infested affair, so much so that it was actually pretty depressing. Odd and poorly crafted weapons hung about the room or strewn across several tables with numerous boxes piled haphazardly around the walls.

"This is where we keep our important klunk," he smirked at her as he walked further inside.

He pushed aside a few boxes at the back of the room to reveal a hidden door leading down to a basement. She hurried to follow him after he managed to find the light switch. There were better weapons downstairs with boxes of neatly stacked shoes and clothes. He picked a trainer up; it was made of a shiny white material and almost made her blind when it reflected the light from the ceiling.

"Runner shoes!" he grinned. "A Runner's best friend. Well, second best friend."

"What's the first?" she asked curiously, then looked up when he hadn't replied.

He was staring at her with an odd expression on his face. "Um. Forget I said that, I don't think you'll understand."

She raised an eyebrow at him weirdly before rummaging through the pile of shoes in search for her size. Mercifully, there was a single pair right at the bottom of the stock, as if they had been waiting for her all these years. That was a creepy thought and she shivered inwardly at it. Minho also passed her a watch which she immediately strapped on, a backpack, two water bottles, a couple of knives and some new clothes.

After she got changed, they headed to the kitchen for breakfast and to pack lunch with some snacks for the day ahead. Newt gave her an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder when he saw her and she tried to smile in return. Lingering a few more moments in the Homestead, they finally made their way to the Doors. They stood side by side on its threshold and Minho reached for her hand seemingly without thought.

"Ready?" he asked her.

"I don't think I'll ever be ready to go in there," she threw him a small ironic smirk.

He chuckled. "Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," she answered without hesitation.

"Good that," Minho smiled. "Let's go!"

He let go of her hand and they ran down the stone corridor together. Cassandra's heart thumped erratically inside her chest; she was in the Maze and it electrified every single cell in her body. She tried to keep her breathing even as she followed Minho two steps behind him.

They turned right and down another right, through a straight corridor before banking left in the middle. She tried to memorise their path, engraving it into her long-term memory by repeating the directions in her head over and over again. They ran endlessly and it was difficult for her to observe their surroundings, although it was mostly covered in ivy. She wondered whether there was anything hidden underneath them, a hidden clue or something.

Minho had his knife out and was cutting off pieces of vines every three turns they made to mark their way. They must have ran for more than two hours when he slowed to a stop and looked around. They had just passed a part of the wall that was thicker than the rest for whatever reason, but it served as a useful marker.

"Alright," he panted. "Break time."

Cassandra sighed in relief. The burn in her legs was accumulating painfully and she bent over to catch her breath. Minho sat down on the ground against the wall and went through his pack, picking out an apple. She joined him with her own, slumping down and relishing the moist juice trickling down her throat.

"How's it so far?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "Nothing is standing out to me."

"It's fine," he said. "We're not at the outer sector yet."

"Is it different there?" she frowned.

"A little," Minho shrugged. "We're heading into Section One, it's full of pillars. Maybe there's a clue there, a fresh pair of eyes might help."

She nodded thoughtfully and looked around the corridor where she could see ivy, ivy and more ivy. There was just ivy everywhere, twisting into dark crevices and climbing up the rough structure interminably.

"Have you ever climbed up the vines?" she asked.

"Yeah. There isn't anything up there," he shook his head. "Just the Maze stretching on for miles and miles."

"What about the outer sector?"

"There're no vines there."

She exhaled, feeling deflated. "Has anyone killed a Griever before?"

He laughed at the mere suggestion. "No one would even dare go within a hundred metres of one," he told her.

"Maybe there's a clue in them?" she raised her eyebrows and took a sip of water.

"Doubt it," he shook his head. "Those things are nasty."

He stood up and held a hand out to her. She guessed it was time to move on and put away her bottle before taking his hand. They ran down more corridors, took one short little water break and ran the last lap towards the outer sector. Cassandra could tell that he was being mindful of her by the way his body seemed tense, as if he was holding himself back.

The corridors were much wider there and just as Minho said, there were large stone pillars scattered around. She headed up to the nearest one and touched its completely smooth stone surface. There wasn't a crack or notch or anything around its entire breadth. She craned her neck to examine it further but couldn't see any recesses or breaks throughout its length either. The next three pillars proved the same as well, and there were about ten dozen more of them lining the next few corridors.

"Could they be leading us to something?" she asked as she met up with Minho around the south-western corner.

"I've tried mapping them out," he told her. "But they don't point to anything. There're about a hundred and fifty pillars scattered around, built into the walls. I've probably gone through each one myself but maybe I missed something, you know?"

"I haven't seen anything unusual about them either. They're all identical," she placed a hand on her hip.

"Yeah, it's a shucking chore," he sighed. "Section Seven has these giant blades, they're wicked cool though. Come on. Let's check the other side real quick before heading back."

They jogged over to the other end of the sector and looked through a few more pillars before heading back in the direction they came from. Minho told her to take the lead and she managed to get them back with four corrections- the vines really do help out a lot.

The Doors slid close not too long after, metal and stone grinding against each other in a deafening rumble. She made it through her first day and felt relief crash down on her like a waterfall. But there wasn't any time to rest just yet as Minho ushered her towards the Map Room, spinning the submarine handle to open the door.

The other Runners were already back and they turned to look at her as she entered first, then Minho stepped in behind her to shut the door. A single table stood in the middle of the room, surrounded on all sides by wooden chests pushed against the walls. Some were open and she spied stacks of paper inside, the table itself was littered with them too.

"Hey, Greenie," one of the boys greeted her with a crooked grin. He was tall with soft dark hair, roguish angular features and like the rest of them, an athletic figure. "How'd she do, Minho?"

"Eh, not too bad," Minho shrugged in reply.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the boy nudged the blonde next to him. "Hear that, Ben? Minho approves already. Dude, she must be good."

"Shut yer yappin' and get back to work, Lee!" Minho snapped.

Cassandra bit her lip in mild bewilderment as she felt her cheeks grow warm. The Keeper announced the news to the rest of the boys that she was officially a Runner now. They cheered briefly, one of them saying that they got the first ever girl in the Glade. She wasn't sure whether that was supposed to be an honour.

"Okay," Minho grabbed chairs for the both of them to sit. "Draw it quickly, use this as a template."

He handed her a piece of blank paper and a pencil, then placed the map from the previous day of the same Section in front of her.

"Write down the Section number and day of the week on the top right corner like that," he pointed.

She did as he told her, concentrating on drawing out the map as accurately as she could possibly remember. He still had to correct her a few times. She tried picturing it in her head as a whole but she was too preoccupied trying to find a pattern in the drawings. There must be something they were missing, something completely obvious. When she was done, she tried to compare the two maps together but she couldn't see anything significant about them.

"You'll only see a difference after a week," Minho told her. "Two days won't get you anything."

The disappointment she felt was acute. Not only had she not remembered anything from their run, but she hadn't found anything either. They exited the Map Room and made their way to the Homestead, running into Newt on the way. He looked expectantly at her with hopeful eyes, which made her feel even worse.

"Did you...?" he started.

She shook her head and looked down but she caught Minho nudging Newt and shooting the younger boy a look.

"Oh! Well, there's always tomorrow," Newt said cheerfully. "Can't expect you to magically solve all our problems now."

All she wanted to do was to have a shower and go to bed but Minho insisted she had something to eat first. She avoided eye contact with everyone and barely heard what Minho was telling her. When she finally laid down on her hammock later that night, she felt the instant rush of sweet respite.


	12. IXION

**ACT I SCENE XII**  
 **IXION**

* * *

 **LOG 121: TA**

Stage 2 Prophesi was a success. We were able to issue short pulses of high voltage electrical stimulation throughout the parieto-occipito-temporal junction linked to perceptual processing. However, it caused severe dampening in the neural plasticity of the subject. The estimated time for repair ranges from three weeks to two months. The subject will not be able to dream during this period.

The brain of an Immune is highly plastic, allowing neural pathways and synapses to remap themselves at a rate much higher than non-Immunes. The data from the reaction sample has also been interesting, with observations of negative activity in Point Zero. All evidence supports our hypothesis thus far.

We will assume Stage 3 Prophesi once the neural networks have re-established themselves. This will require activation of Point Zero and REM synchronisation between the two subjects.

This will be impossibly tricky, but entirely rewarding for our data analysis.

* * *

Four weeks passed since Cassandra arrived in the Glade, almost three since she became a Runner. She hadn't had any other incidents since that night in the rain, nor had she heard any more voices in her head. The dreams stopped as well, as if she had now been denied access to that part of her brain, although she would actually chalk it up to exhaustion.

Running was all she could think about anymore. Memorising patterns, scrutinising corridors of endless stone and ivy, hoping she wouldn't get eaten at a moment's notice, keeping her eyes on Minho and finding a way out.

It ate away at her every waking moment. What was she missing? Why had the memories stopped coming back? What was she supposed to do now?

Run, stop, eat, run, stop, eat. Survive.

Minho told her to take a break that day, he could see that she was coming to terms with their situation; that the Maze was an impossible puzzle to solve and they were all grasping at straws. She'd been helping Newt in the Gardens when the Box's alarm started ringing throughout the Glade. Its incessant noise brought most of the Gladers towards it and half an hour later, there was a loud bang then the ringing stopped. Gally and Zart stepped forwards to open the heavy metal grate to peer inside.

"Lookit here, Cassandra," Gally glanced at her as she and Newt reached them. "Guess you're no longer the resident Greenie. We got a new one, boys!"

There were a few cheers and Gally jumped inside with a loud hollow thump. She moved closer to take a peek and found a disoriented boy lying at the bottom, only just coming back to consciousness. He was rather tall, with short crop black hair and olive skin. The boy started panicking when he saw Gally and the others before quickly backing himself into a corner.

"Hey, slim it, shank," Gally laughed at him. "You're safe. Welcome to the Glade!"

The boy couldn't possibly look even more terrified but he did when Gally said those last four words. She might have reacted that way if she hadn't been so out of it, and if she hadn't recognised them somehow. Cassandra briefly wondered what that would have felt like; maybe her life there would have been a lot simpler.

"W-what? Where am I? How did I get here?!" the new kid sputtered nervously.

"I just told you, you're in the Glade," Gally sighed in exasperation then pulled him up to a stand. "Come on, Greenie."

He climbed out of the Box without waiting for a reply. The boy looked at them warily before pulling himself up, probably deciding he'd rather take his chances with the strangers than the Box again. He looked around the compound, taking it all in with mesmerised trepidation written all over his face.

"Who are you people?" he turned back to Gally.

"We're the same as you. Came out of that Box with nothin' but our names," the experienced boy pointed in reply.

Alby and Nick had finally arrived on the scene to greet the newcomer and the crowd of boys parted to let them through. Alby stood with his arms crossed, his trademark scowl on his face and the boy took a step back, clearly feeling intimidated. Cassandra felt badly for him, then Alby asked for his name which was Frankie. Questions poured out of his mouth in a flurry while the crowd of onlookers sniggered and jeered around him.

"Shut up, all of you!" Alby roared then turned to Nick expectantly.

The shaggy haired boy had a serene look on his face, a half smile playing about his lips. He looked as if he was drugged up but Cassandra knew better- the boy was a total enigma.

"Let's go on The Tour, Newbie," Nick said, voice calm and even as ever.

"I'll go with 'em," Newt quickly let her know. He paused and chuckled, but it sounded forced. "Might just scare the poor bugger to an early grave. Catch ya later, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded and watched him jog after Nick and Frankie.

Not feeling like going back to the Gardens on her own, she wandered back to the Homestead to help Frypan in the kitchen. She was also peckish so she stole some food when his back was turned. Various ingredients were strewn about the counters along with several baking dishes; it looked like dinner tonight was casserole again.

The day passed by in a haze and she felt like she was on autopilot, the normality of cooking a striking contrast to her usual risk-of-unexpected-death activities. She caught herself a few times staring out of the window, watching Nick give the Greenie the Tour around the Glade. Frankie seemed less afraid now, but continued to gawk with utter confusion at his situation.

She waited for Minho to return, remembering what it felt like in her first week there and wondering at how she had fallen into the lifestyle fairly easily. As she popped the last of the casserole into the oven, Cassandra felt a chill shoot down her spine and she quickly whirled around. Frypan and his crew were washing up with their backs turned to her and she scanned the kitchen, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. It felt like someone had been watching her though. She was about to resume her previous ministrations when she saw it- a glint of silver and red slinking away through a crack in the ceiling.

* * *

She hadn't realised she had fallen asleep outside on the grass until Minho was shaking her awake. He shook his wet hair over her and she cried out in disgust, rolling away from him. He laughed loudly, almost falling backwards.

"Gotcha!" he gave her a dimpled smirk and she rolled her eyes.

"You are so gross!" she shot him an accusatory glare.

He gave a noncommittal shrug. "How was your day?" he asked.

"We got a new Greenie," she told him, pointing the boy out in the distance. The Keeper of the Sloppers, Joey, was helping him settle in.

"Track-hoe," Minho observed.

"How are you so confident?" she asked. "Looks more like a Slicer to me."

"No way, look at him," he waved his hand. "Definitely Gardens."

"Well, I say he's a Slopper."

They turned to find Newt plopping himself down on the grass between them. He looked a little nervous and kept fidgeting with his hands. Cassandra frowned slightly at his behaviour.

"Greenie won't stop freaking out about everything," he said. "And Nick actually looks like he's going to lose his klunk."

"That'll be a first," Minho rolled his eyes. "Maybe he's finally ready to snap."

"Don't joke about that," Cassandra hissed at him.

"It's no joke," Newt interjected. "They all snap. Some later than most."

She couldn't see Nick anywhere around the Glade, but Cassandra didn't like the sound of that. They chatted for a while about the new kid before grabbing dinner then stayed up late that night, talking on the farthest side of the Homestead. There was a moment of silence before Cassandra and Newt realised that Minho had fallen asleep ahead of them.

"There, look," the blonde pointed up at the sky.

There was a scattering of lights throughout the pitch darkness, like someone had taped a second canvas above them. She looked at them twinkling there with indefinable swirls and patterns, wondering if she had ever seen anything like it before.

"They don't come out often, but when they do they kind of light up the whole Glade," he said, and he was right.

There were still no signs of the moon or sun but there was always light, it dimmed and brightened at the appropriate hours. She was still convinced that they were artificial, like everything else in this place. Perfectly set up for them.

"Have you ever wondered what's out there?" she asked, voice low. "In the real world?"

"Yeah," he replied, looking at her. "But I don't think I'd like it. What kinda world traps kids up like this with monsters? I bet it's all shucked up out there."

She could feel her stomach sink at the thought of it. He was irrevocably right. None of this made any sense and she questioned whether there was any real purpose to it all. It was too elaborate for fun, and it was too cruel for it to be for their own good. She thought it was impossible to feel any more frightened about their situation, but she did- frightened at the uncertainty of it all. If they'd be able to make it. People have already died in the attempt. Newt reached over and squeezed her arm.

"Hey, relax, Cass," he said. "You know, you can never hide what you're thinking. It's always written all over your face."

Cassandra gave him a pained smile, not sure whether that was a good or bad thing. She guessed she'd never make it as a professional liar.

"I like how everyone calls me by my name now," she commented.

"Yeah? Just for laughs, I'm gonna start calling ya Greenbean again," he smirked. "Get everyone all well nice and puzzled."

"Yeah, you do that and I'll kick your butt right off the Cliff. Then I'll wave as you blink out of existence."

"Oho, you finally found the Cliff, have you?" he asked. "Don't do that, Alby is always threatening to fling people off the Cliff."

She laughed, knowing exactly what he meant. The boy's voice could always be heard around the Glade yelling threats at everyone from time to time. Well, at least once a day. He had a pretty mean temper, which she liked to stay away from.

"How's the new kid holding up?" she wondered out loud.

"Shank's been holed up in a corner somewhere bawlin' his eyes out. Scared shuckless he is."

Cassandra frowned. "Poor guy..."

"He'll get over it," Newt waved a hand. "We all did, eventually. First Day's always hard for the Greenfolks, and it gets harder till they grow a pair and slim it."

"Were you and Minho like that too?"

"Minho was the first to head out into the Maze," he told her. "Drove us all shuck mad. When he came back though, Nick and I went with him next."

"You used to be a Runner. What happened?" she looked at him curiously.

"I fell," he gave a shrug. "Hurt my leg."

"Griever?"

"Yeah, basically."

"But you didn't get stung?"

"Shuck no," he rolled his eyes. "Should thank my lucky stars."

"Yeah, I bet," she murmured.

She had always heard about the Changing from the others, but she hadn't actually seen one happen. It sounded excruciatingly painful though and made her want to stay out of the Maze all the more. She just wanted to collect every boy in the Glade and put them in a big box, so they didn't have to go through that. But that seemed like a stupid idea anyway. Newt continued talking for a while longer before eventually falling asleep. Cassandra stared up at the sky and the lazy twinkle of faint stars, lost in thought, before her eyes slid close.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

Hope this explained some stuff about the connection between Minho and Cassandra! It's all just a huge experiment that I'm planning to tie in with Thomas and Teresa's Trials in Book 2.

 **Sciencey explanation stuff :**

The theory here is that Immunes have higher neural plasticity and since the virus mainly shuts down the human aspect of the person, their brains just remaps that 'function' to another healthy part and they don't go insane.

The brain junction mentioned in the log is to do with perception. In dreams, activation reaches the prefrontal cortex of the brain and these areas try to make sense of the information it receives. In Cassie's case, she has a lot more activation in these areas than normal people which explains her 'predictions'. Stage 2 was to kickstart this activation.

REM (rapid eye movement) is the stage in your sleep where you start to dream.

I did say we were going to get real in-depth with this story :D There will be much more to come!

Each review will be used for science xx


	13. ALCMEÔN

**ACT I SCENE XIII**  
 **ALCMEÔN**

* * *

 _ **HE FELT LIKE AN APPARITION** as he walked down the dirt path. Everything felt familiar but at the same time, it wasn't. For a brief moment, he thought he was dead. That maybe a big ball of fire landed on the Glade and this was the afterlife. Minho wasn't sure what he was looking at but he knew that it was something completely bizarre. His feet stopped, crunching against some gravel and he looked up to find... himself?_

 _The certainty of it took him by surprise but he figured that it was him as a child. It was a strange experience; to be watching and feeling the surge of emotions that plagued his younger self._

 _It was late in the afternoon and the sky was burnt orange all above them. He held onto a girl's hand tightly, as if it was his only lifeline, clinging with all his might. She wore a tense mask of fear with wide eyes that were filled with unshed tears, pooling around the corners but refusing to spill over just yet. All around them, people were scurrying about with looks of utter terror on their faces. Their parents were nowhere to be seen and no one paid any attention to them. He could hear yelling and crying nearby, a turbulence of noise that sent fear rushing to his heart._

 _"Let's go somewhere else," he said and she nodded quickly._

 _They set off in a familiar direction, through the narrow alleys of the wooden houses built in a tight knit community. All the doors were wide open and there was a frenzy of activity inside each one. Finally, they stopped by a house that they both knew well and waited outside for some kind of sign, or for someone to finally acknowledge them. But everyone was too busy with whatever that had them so scared._

 _They went through the open door, peeking inside hesitantly. There were two people that they recognised; a man holding a woman down against the bed with a rag stuffed in her mouth as she convulsed violently like she was possessed. Her eyes were glazed over and drool drenched the piece of cloth. The little girl beside him gasped in shock._

 _"Don't come inside!" the man yelled, his voice filled with panic. "Stay away!"_

 _Minho pulled the girl from the door, taking a step back. She started to sob, tears finally spilling down her round cheeks. His heart thumped painfully against his chest as he continued to watch in horror. Thick, dark blood started to flow down the convulsing woman's face. It came out of her eyes, her ears, nose and mouth. The man cursed loudly, his face overcome with despondency. He gave up on holding the woman down and grabbed her shoulders, crushing her against his chest, then turning her head away from them._

 _"Get out of here!" he yelled. "Don't look! Go!"_

 _The little girl shrieked loudly, struggling against his grip. He tried his hardest not to let go of her, obeying the man imperatively, knowing that everything was going wrong all over again._

 _"Mama!" she cried, her voice pitching shrilly._

 _Then screaming erupted all around them, coming from every direction; like a chorus of wailing ghosts. It suffocated him and all he could think of was to **run**._

* * *

Minho woke up with a jerk, blinking away the cold sweat that dripped down his face and into his eye. He looked around wildly, trying to get back his bearings. The faintest hint of dawn illuminated the field with a soft blue light. He looked to his left, finding Cassandra sound asleep next to him and felt himself relax. Her forehead was almost touching his shoulder and he could hear her soft breaths. Wild dark hair covered half her face and he rolled onto his side to face her, smiling to himself as he pushed the tendrils away. Her eyebrows furrowed for a brief second before smoothing back down again.

The dream was beginning to slip from his mind and he tried to retain as much information from it as he could. All he remembered was a little girl crying and someone dying. A dream... or a memory?

Minho never had dreams like that before. It felt so real, so vivid, and he would never be able to make something up like that with his own imagination. Usually, his dreams involved running from Grievers, arguing with Nick or finding a way out of the Maze. He had never seen those people before in his life either- his life in the Glade, that is.

Was it his subconscious playing tricks on him? Was it because of Cassandra?

He remembered the little girl, tried to picture her in his head. Dark hair and eyes, round cheeks and small lips. Her eyes welling up with tears. He tried to compare her to Cassandra but it could have been anyone. Letting out a small sigh, he closed his eyes again. She said she had dreams about them as children- memories.

He never thought remembering the past would do any good for any of them. Whatever they had all been, whatever they had all gone through, it didn't matter anymore. Dwelling on it wouldn't help their situation in the slightest. It was his only consolation to the massive question mark in his head. But what if he _had_ known her in his previous life. Could she be bringing back those suppressed memories on a subconscious level?

As he mulled the possibilities over in his head, he hadn't noticed the girl stir beside him.

* * *

Cassandra opened her eyes and blinked several times before her sight came back into focus. Minho laid next to her, incredibly close, arms crossed behind his head with his eyes shut. She laid there, looking at him for a while then slowly, he opened his eyes and turned to face her. He smiled softly and took her hand in his as if it was completely natural.

The blue morning light haze intensified to a golden glow and it felt like they were lying on the edge of the world. The Glade slipped far away and there was only Minho in front of her. His hand was warm and safe, she never wanted to let go of him.

She didn't know when it started to happen but she knew that the feelings she felt for him were more than just simple coincidence. When she first saw him, she knew there had been a deeper bond between them than mere recognition. A bond that could only be the result of years of knowing each other.

It was a shame that those memories were buried underneath the amnesia. She wished she could just bring them all back at will.

Minho leaned over and caressed her hair with his other hand. His thumb swept across her cheek and she felt the lone tear trail down her face, still freshly moist. He must have noticed it as well because he started to frown.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

Cassandra wasn't so sure either, her mind was still fogged with sleep and how much she liked his bigger hand covering hers. Then it all came back to her, piece by piece, and a dull ache bloomed across her chest.

"I remembered how my mum died."


	14. HIPPONOUS

**ACT I SCENE XIV**  
 **HIPPONOUS**

* * *

 **HE ALWAYS ENJOYED TEASING HER** ; she easily humoured him and knew how to just go with things. Minho interlaced his fingers between hers and felt a warmth rush through his body from her fingertips. He didn't know why but it felt completely natural, like he had done it a thousand times before. He was sorely tempted to say something, poke fun at her bedhead or the ridiculously dazed look on her face. She was probably still asleep with her eyes open but he didn't have the heart to do it. She was serene under the warm glow of dawn.

He hadn't realised it until he brushed her cheek with his thumb, but there was a fresh tear stain trailing down her face. Concern rippled under his content, then everything evaporated at what she said next.

"I remembered how my mum died."

It all came flooding back to the forefront of his mind. The dream. The screaming, the convulsing woman bleeding from every orifice of her body, the man yelling at them to get out, the little girl clinging onto him and sobbing. It hit him like a shockwave and he was frozen to the core, ice-cold fear creeping slowly into his system.

"Minho?" she murmured, her hand squeezing his gently, still not quite awake.

"Tell me about it," he whispered quickly back.

She closed her eyes and recounted her dream. They were both there, holding hands in the middle of some kind of settlement. People were screaming and running around them while they tried to look for her parents. She saw her mother die, a horrific death that she refused to tell but he already knew the details anyway.

They ran back to the room they had came from, barricaded themselves inside. There was screaming all around them, penetrating the thin wooden walls and she was sure that more people were dying. Then she sobbed herself to sleep before she woke up in the Glade.

Exactly like his dream.

Except he had woken up earlier. His face scrunched up with a range of emotions. Cassandra opened her eyes and reached up to touch his shoulder with her other hand. She called his name again, voice laced with concern. He turned to her, the crease between his brows deepening further as he struggled to make sense of the deluge of questions in his mind.

"I had the exact same dream," he told her hesitantly.

It played like slow motion but the look of alarm on her face was unmistakable and her eyes widened considerably. That definitely woke her up and he immediately saw the gears in her head finally grinding back to life. They went into overdrive as she pushed herself up onto her elbow. Their hands were still clasped together, neither of them wanting to let go just yet. It felt like some kind of anchor, grounding them, so they wouldn't fly into a blind panic. He could see it in her eyes, bubbling just below the surface.

"W-What..." she stammered.

"I had the exact same dream, Cassie," he repeated, pushing himself upright as well. "Every shuck thing up until the screaming, then I woke up."

"How is that possible?" she whispered, more to herself than to him. "Maybe it's just a coincidence."

"You and I both know that's not it."

She turned her head left and right, eyes scanning the field as if she half expected people to jump out of the ground. There might be beetle blades watching them, but that would be about it. They were always watching them anyway. Then her eyes returned to his and they exchanged a long look with each other. The answer was clear and obvious; it had been deliberate.

* * *

Cassandra sat on a patch of grass facing the West Door and stretched her limbs. She held her hands high up in the air and bent to one side, then the other. Bending one leg, she reached forwards and held the top of her foot as she breathed slowly. She changed positions to stretch on the other side, then folded her legs and closed her eyes.

"Hey, don't fall back to sleep now."

She turned and looked up to find Minho standing beside her with a hand at his hip. He held a sandwich in the other and took a large bite out of it. They hadn't talked about the dream since that morning but it was clear that it still bothered him. He seemed a little tense, his eyes kept darting to meet hers nervously and she tried not to think too much about what happened. It was normal for her to have dreams of the past, but Minho had never experienced it before. She felt a little bad for him. He seemed to like not knowing.

Once he was done with his breakfast, they headed towards the Maze. Running had become almost second nature to her now. Run, take notes, memorise, cut vines. She followed Minho's instructions to every letter and didn't even need to think about it anymore, her body acted on it all instinctively.

They would stop after a couple of hours to take a break and have a quick bite to eat. Their breaks were shorter and farther in between now than when she had first started. They had explored almost every inch of the Maze together but nothing ever came up, not even the slightest clue. She was getting more and more frustrated by the day but there was nothing she could do about it. Her chest felt like there was a tightly wound ball lodged somewhere deep inside.

Then she spotted something on one of the walls, half covered by ivy. She didn't know how she never noticed it before but it made her stop immediately to check it out. Her hand reached up to uncover the section of the wall and found big capital letters stamped on a silver plaque. It read "WORLD IN CATASTROPHE: KILLZONE EXPERIMENT DEPARTMENT".

"What the..." she whispered then called out to Minho.

She expected him to run up to her, tell her what it might mean but there was nothing. Shocked at his silence, she turned to look over her shoulder. The corridor on her left and right were empty. Completely empty. There was no sign of the boy anywhere. She started at the realisation that Minho hadn't noticed her stopping, that he had gone down the Maze without her.

"Crap."

She started sprinting down the passageway. It was a long and straight corridor but she didn't see him up ahead. Reaching the t-section at the end, she looked in both directions and felt her heart drop.

The first thought that sprung to her mind was that she was lost. Then she tried to remember the patterns and routes but her mind kept reeling. She thought she had it all memorised, but without Minho, she suddenly lost all confidence in herself.

"Shuck, you can do this, Cassandra," she looked back and forth again, then let out a pained groan. "Shuck this."

She ran right because it was the logical route. The left side led back to Sector One, which they had gone through two weeks prior. This path led to Sector Seven, which was the last sector she hadn't run through. Her heart skipped a beat when she remembered that she had no idea what the patterns were like in there. Cassandra continued to run, hoping that she would eventually bump into Minho. Surely, he must have noticed that she wasn't following him anymore by now.

She came to the next t-section and froze. Now she was completely shucked.

Cassandra cut three pieces of vines and threw one in the middle of the corridor. If Minho came back this way, that should be enough of a hint for him to figure out that she'd been there. She went left this time and dropped another piece of vine to indicate the direction she took. Then she jogged onwards, stopping in the middle where an opening came up on her right. Dropping the vine by its entrance, she turned and ran in.

She kept at it, cutting more pieces of vines and dropping them every time she made a turn. Her footsteps started to become frantic as she ran deeper into the winding labyrinth. She was just rounding a corner when a low mechanical whirring made her jump backwards. Her heartbeat skyrocketed as she instantly flattened herself against the wall and tried to stop herself from panting.

There was the sound of metallic clicking, but it sounded like it was going away from her. She held her breath and peeked around the corner before quickly pulling away. Lovely, she thought drily when she managed to get an eyeful of Griever butt. Cassandra looked up, thanking her stars that it wasn't heading in her direction at least. She was about to turn back when something grabbed her from the side.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

When Papa Min Min accidentally loses a Glader child in the Maze...

Every review will be used to buy one of those navigator things xx


	15. AMYCOS

**ACT I SCENE XV**  
 **AMYCOS**

* * *

 **A HAND CLAMPED DOWN** against her mouth just as she took a deep breath to scream. She looked into Minho's glistening face with wide horror-struck eyes. His chest was heaving up and down, a crease between his brows. Not daring to move a muscle or even utter a sound, she continued to stare into his eyes until the menacing sounds of the Griever faded further into the distance. When he was sure that it was finally gone, he lowered his hand and she took in a big gulp of fresh air.

"Sorry," he breathed. "I was so scared I lost you. What happened?"

"No, I'm sorry, I stopped to look at something on the wall," she said quickly. "I didn't realise you had run off so far."

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "At least I found you again. Good job on the vines," he said. "I figured right away that you were trying to look for me too."

"Yeah," she nodded. "I saw a plaque on the wall. It read World In Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department. What the shuck does that mean?"

"No clue," he shrugged. "It's stamped on almost every wall here, under all the ivy. We figure it must be what we're in. Some kind of Killzone Experiment. Whatever that even means."

"World in Catastrophe though... it's official then," she said. "The world outside must be shucki-"

An outrageously loud inhuman shriek erupted behind her and cut her off mid-sentence. It scared the living daylights out of her and she barely processed what happened next. There was the squeal of steel grinding against each other that made her cringe. Minho yelled and hugged her against his chest just as she felt a swish cut through the air where her head had been just a second ago.

Then Minho was pulling her down the corridor and she felt like her arm was about to be ripped out of its socket. The Griever lunged forwards after them as they flew through the maze. She concentrated on Minho's back, trying to ignore the loud clanging metal and lumbering flesh behind her. The smell of burnt oil almost made her retch and Minho glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Don't stop running, Cassie!" he yelled.

There was another ear splitting shriek, this time from up ahead of them. Minho skidded to a halt and she almost ploughed straight through him if he hadn't been prepared to stop her. At exactly the same moment, a second Griever rushed around the corner in front of them. Its right appendage with a giant saw attached to the end swung at their torsos with cold ferocity.

Cassandra screamed as she jerked away, pulling Minho along with her and they both crashed into the wall. The jolt shook her entire body, leaving her gasping from the pain. The Griever opened its wide gaping mouth and screeched angrily before attacking once more. Minho grabbed her, throwing the both of them to the ground and using the momentum to roll pass the Griever back down the corridor. They scrambled to their feet as the creature turned around to face them.

There wasn't any time to waste and they sprinted as fast as they could despite the burn in their muscles. Fear trickled down their backs while pure adrenaline controlled their every movement. They turned at every corner sharply, skidding and kicking off with a burst of speed. Somewhere along their hasty retreat, both Grievers had teamed up and were charging after them.

Cassandra felt something sharp pierce through her shin but she paid no heed to it as they continued to flee down the twisting corridors. Their pursuit was unrelenting. It wasn't until they had passed the inner section that the sounds started to falter and fade behind the corners, but they continued running nevertheless. They didn't stop until they were hurtling through the Doors of the Glade, collapsing on top of one another on the grass.

Every atom in her being screamed in protest and she was breathing so heavily, she thought her lungs would just about explode inside her ribs. A sharp pain shot up her leg from her ankle and she was sure she had sprained it on the way back. Minho groaned next to her ear as exhaustion consumed him. The both of them were drenched in sweat, but there was no blood. Thankfully.

She didn't know how long they laid there for when the Walls started to move. The thunderous sound of stone and metal grating against each other made her head hurt even more; the dehydration was already starting to get to her.

Cassandra attempted to push herself up into a sitting position but fell back down when her arms shook from the effort. Minho rolled onto his back, pulling his knees up and she continued to lie on her belly face down on the grass. Their breathing started to even out as the Doors closed with a final snap of its jaws.

"You okay there?" she heard Minho ask.

"Yeah," she exhaled. "Totally sprained my ankle though."

"Really? Shuck," he made a grunt that was supposed to be a laugh. "No more fun for you."

"I think I've had enough fun to last me a while," she replied.

They looked at each other and chuckled weakly. Someone approached them and they turned to look; it was one of the other Runners. He had strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes, with a tall slightly bulky frame. She remembered his name was Ben and that he was one of the nicer guys.

"You two look like fish out of water," he told them. "What happened? Ran into Grievers?"

"Good guess, buddy," Minho replied. "Two of the suckers, right up in our faces."

"You guys okay?" he asked, eyes flickering down to Cassandra.

"Sprained my ankle," she could only say. "But we're intact."

"Cool," Ben nodded. "I'll try to find Clint or Jeff. Have them take a look at that ankle of yours."

"Thanks..."

The Runner jogged off towards the Homestead and Cassandra finally rolled onto her back. The movement sent another acute pain through her leg and she hissed loudly.

"Alright, that sounds bad," Minho looked at her. "Stop moving."

He had managed to push himself up into a sitting position and moved himself closer to her. She covered her face with an arm as he rolled the hem of her pants up.

"Ooh," he sounded.

"How's it look, Doctor? Am I gonna make it?" she asked.

"It's bad, Cassie," he responded.

She let her arm fall back to her side and lifted her back off the ground to take a look. Her ankle was swollen and it was starting to bruise, the stretched skin already turning a purplish tinge. She fell back down with a heavy sigh.

"Shuck."

"Shuck is right," he leaned back and looked down at her with concern. "That's gonna take at least three weeks to heal properly."

She wanted to protest, that she'd be fine in a couple of days but she knew it was useless. The damn ligament was probably shredded. She wouldn't be able to walk, much less run, for the next week. Minho looked up at the sound of approaching company and she followed his gaze. Clint was jogging towards them with Ben right behind him. The Med-jack bent down to examine her ankle, prodding it gently and looking at her reaction. She cried out in pain and glared at him accusingly.

"Guess Minho's going solo again," Ben laughed.

The Keeper sighed in dismay and Clint stood back up.

"Let's carry her back," he told them. "I don't want her putting any more strain on that. I'll wrap it up when we're back at the Homestead."

Ben started to move around her but Minho held a hand up to stop him.

"I got it, big guy," he said, getting up to his feet.

With an astonishing display of strength, Minho scooped her up in his arms. Cassandra was amazed, he was half-dead from exhaustion just moments ago, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh, my dashing hero," she commented jokingly.

"For you, anything," he grinned boyishly.

Ben and Clint rolled their eyes. They headed back to the Homestead where Clint bandaged her ankle up just like he said he would then left with Ben. Minho stretched his limbs, wincing at every sore spot and muscle. Cassandra was sitting up on the bed with one leg folded and her bad one laying straight out.

Clint had told her not to move it as much as possible and to avoid putting any pressure on it. He left a couple of crutches on the side too which looked hand-made. Minho was sat on the end of the bed, careful not to disturb her foot.

"This sucks," he said. "Shucking Grievers, always gotta be ruining my day."

She giggled. "Have fun on your own out there. Don't miss me too much."

He looked at her and wrinkled his nose. "At least the only thing I'll have to worry about now is you being bored to death, stuck in this room," he said playfully.

She groaned, not having thought of that. With her ankle, she was ultimately bed-bound until it healed enough for her to walk around again. Minho laughed at her reaction then reached over to touch her hand.

"This might sound weird," he started. "But I'm glad it was just your ankle that got hurt."

His eyes looked at her earnestly and she tried not to blush. She knew what he meant though and lowered her gaze, feeling meek all of a sudden.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I'm glad nothing happened to you. I don't think I'd be okay with that."

"Me too."

He then left for the Map Room, promising to bring her dinner later. With little else to do, Cassandra lied down on the bed and closed her eyes. She managed to doze off for a while, and was woken up by a knock on the door. Her eyelids flew open and she started to push herself up with an elbow.

"Minho?" she called.

The door swung open slowly and a gangly boy with shaggy brown hair poked his head through the crack. Her face fell when she recognised who it was. Nick pushed the door open wider and took a step inside.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

And he's back. Poor Cassie, it's only been like a month and she's already out of commission lol.

Each review gives Gally's eyebrows their power! xx


	16. IOKLES

**ACT I SCENE XVI  
** **IOKLES**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA STARED** at the boy as he had the decency to rub the back of his head sheepishly. Of all the people on her list of never wanting to see again, this guy was somewhere near the top along with Alby. All the more convenient that the two of them were best buddies. She stuck her tongue in her cheek and gave her best impression of disapproval.

"Sorry..." he said in that lazy drawl of his. "But Minho's a little... tied up at the moment."

"I hope you don't mean that literally," she retorted, but concern seeped into her words.

He gave a small smile before closing the door behind him with a little snap. Nick readjusted his thick black-framed glasses and glanced down at her leg; no doubt every single Glader had heard about the news by now.

"Clint said you hurt your ankle pretty bad," he pointed.

"Yeah, pretty much bedbound for the next week."

She watched him warily as he crossed the room and located a chair. He turned it around and straddled it, face resting on top of his arms. He was the most sluggish person she had ever laid eyes on, like everything he did required so much effort and each move he made calculated for the quickest route to comfort. She might have warmed up to him, if only she could ever get the image of him choking himself out of her head.

"Minho promised he'd get me dinner," she sniffed in disappointment.

"Oh, shuck... knew I forgot something," he shook his head in dismay at himself. "Sorry. I'll go get it now."

He stood up and walked towards the door. Cassandra started in mild surprise.

"H-hey, wait!" she called but he ignored her and exited the room.

She could hear the floorboards creaking under his footsteps as he headed back down to the kitchen. Cassandra sighed and settled back into a more comfortable position as she waited. Not more than five minutes later, she heard him coming back up the stairs. He had a tray of chicken chops smothered in gravy, a glass of water and an apple. She sat up a little straighter as he set the tray down on her lap and didn't waste any time standing on ceremony to dig into her dinner as soon as he stepped away.

Nick sat back down on his chair and leaned his head against his hand again. Cassandra didn't care about him anymore. She was starving and she didn't want to think about what they could have possibly done with Minho. Or why Nick, instead of Newt if Minho really was busy somewhere, was the one to bring her dinner.

She concentrated on her food, trying to chew as slowly as she could. It seemed like the boy was waiting for her to be done before speaking. He unnerved the hell out of her sometimes and she really wanted to break his glasses too, the light kept reflecting off of it into her eyes distractingly.

Eventually, she polished off every last remnant of food on her tray. She dropped her fork and knife down with a heavy sigh of inevitability, then sunk a little lower in the bed before glancing at the older boy sitting next to her. Squinting past the reflection, she saw that he had his eyes closed. He looked like he'd fallen asleep.

"Hey," she called loudly, a spark of annoyance flaring inside her.

Nick started and blinked his eyes open to look at her. Cassandra shook her head in disbelief, he actually had fallen asleep. She watched him take his glasses off and rub the bridge of his nose, right between the eyes. He put it back on and yawned widely, stretching his arms above his head.

"Hey," he gave her another sheepish smile.

She sighed tiredly and crossed her arms. Nick then shifted in his seat to make himself comfortable. Seems like whatever he had to say, it was important.

"Right, so..." he started. "I think it's time we started being honest with you."

Cassandra frowned and turned to look at him crossly. "You've been lying to me?!"

"No," he said quickly. "Well, we haven't exactly been telling you everything. Long story short was that I had a theory and I wanted to test it out, so we made you a Runner. I didn't see the point in waiting. Ever since I got stung, I've kind of felt this weird magnetic pull whenever I go into the Maze. Do you feel it too?"

She looked at him in consternation as she took a moment to think about what he said. So that was the reason behind their hasty decision to make her a Runner. It felt like a lot of things were happening behind her back between the leaders of the Glade and she felt a little put off about that. Why couldn't they trust her to tell her these things in the first place? It wasn't like she was about to go on a killing rampage or anything.

"I've only felt that once," she finally admitted. "When I went to the Cliff. I felt like I was being pulled in, but it only lasted for a couple of seconds."

"Yeah, you're different from the rest of us," he nodded. "I don't know how, but you are. You haven't remembered anything since you've been out in the Maze, have you?"

Cassandra frowned at the thought of some kind of external force messing with her head in the Maze. Last night had been the first time in weeks that she remembered something and it was after she had taken a day off from Running. She hoped that it was just a happy coincidence, she didn't particularly like Nick's theory very much.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked quietly.

"You know," Nick told her. "I probably won't be able to last for very long. Every time I close my eyes, I get night terrors. Terrifying things that I don't want to say out loud. Soon, I might start trying to attack people. The hallucinations will start."

"How do you know that?" her eyebrows furrowed.

"It happened to all the others," he looked to the floor. "Like yeah, we get the Serum and it gets rid of whatever poison they stung us with. But once it happens, there's no going back. It's a slow spiral into madness. No one's made it through."

She felt a sudden stab of sympathy for the guy. He had seen for himself what the Changing did to people, watched his friends die in front of him, and now he's gone through it himself. It seemed like he was almost resigned to his fate, knowing that the inevitable would most likely happen, yet he was still trying his utmost hardest to help. To solve the puzzle. To escape.

Cassandra turned her head and looked away from him, wanting to say something comforting but knowing it would be meaningless. Nick shrugged his shoulders and stood up, then paused as if he just remembered something. He took a while to choose his words carefully.

"Another thing..." he said slowly. "You and Minho..."

"Minho and I...?" she narrowed her eyes at him.

"This might sound kinda creepy," he grimaced. "But I've been watching the both of you. And... well, let's just say he doesn't act the same when he's around you."

She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders in a display of perplexity then stared back as she waited for a more elaborate explanation.

"So?" she asked impatiently when he hadn't continued.

"So... we're separating you two," he said. "He's gotten attached to you too quickly, it doesn't seem particularly... healthy."

"Healthy?" she repeated with a raised eyebrow. "I'll show you what healthy really is."

He shook his head. "I've seen him during the first week you arrived. He'd skip the Map Room to look for you, and he didn't even hesitate when I asked to make you a Runner. He's never made anyone a Runner that quickly before without being proven properly."

She had always thought- assumed- that Minho had felt that spark of familiarity like she did that first time they met in the Glade. But he had told her that he didn't feel the same way, yet now Nick was telling her the complete opposite. It seemed like Minho did, on some subconscious level, remember her.

"So what are you saying?" she asked him numbly. "Everyone knows that Minho is somehow connected to my past."

"Yeah," he said. "But what if he's actually not? What if... it's just a manipulation?"

His words were like a slap to her face and it stung in ways she couldn't possibly describe. She looked down to her hands and wondered whether he could be right, that her memories were just lies. They can't be, how could the things she felt be fabrications?

Nick apologised and bade her goodnight before quickly retreating from the room. The door closed behind him with a double click and she started with the realisation that he had locked the damn thing. She was trapped in there, like some kind of invalid prisoner.

Groaning in frustration, she leaned back and knocked her head against the wall a couple of times.


	17. EURYSACES

**ACT I SCENE XVII**  
 **EURYSACES**

* * *

 **DARKNESS HAD FULLY SETTLED** on the Glade but Cassandra had fallen asleep hours before anyone else. There was a sharp rap on the door and someone was calling her name through the flimsy wood. The Homestead was completely silent and the boy's voice sounded loud in the still air. Cassandra almost fell out of her bed as she scrambled to a sitting position. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and strained her ears, afraid that she had been imagining things.

"Cassie?"

Only one person called her name like that.

"Minho?"

"You still up then?" she could hear the smile behind his question.

She reached over to the side to grab the crutches left for her then gingerly got out of bed and hobbled towards the door. Her fingers grasped the handle and turned it before remembering that it was locked from the outside. She pressed herself against the door instead and spoke through the crack.

"I thought you weren't allowed to see me," she couldn't help giving her own smile.

"Nobody said anything about not being able to _talk_ to you though," he replied, mischief evident in his tone. "Hey, did you just get up from bed? You know you're not supposed to be moving around!"

"Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting any visitors," Cassandra started to laugh.

She could hear him chuckle, could imagine his eyes curving and the dimples in his cheeks showing. Slowly lowering herself to the floor, she sat down so she wouldn't risk hurting her ankle more. She could hear him slide down on the other side as well, stopping with a soft thud on the wooden floorboards.

"Can you believe these shucks?" he asked.

"Nick told me that you got too attached to me too quickly," she repeated. "That it wasn't _healthy_."

"Yeah, I'll show that shank what healthy really is," he muttered angrily to himself, but she could hear every word he said and it made her grin widely. "I'm way more mad that they actually locked you in there. You didn't even do anything wrong. On purpose anyway."

She shrugged even though he couldn't see her. The one thing she was sorely tempted to ask was about the things Nick had told her earlier but she didn't know how to phrase it properly without sounding like she was accusing him of lying.

"I trust you too, you know."

"What?" she blinked a couple of times.

"I mean..." he sighed heavily. "I think I'm starting to feel like... I have known you. Before the Glade."

She opened her mouth but couldn't figure out what to say in response to that. "Is it because of the dream?" she finally asked.

"Maybe..." he said after a brief pause. "I just... shuck, I don't know."

Cassandra picked at a loose thread on the hem of her shirt. She desperately wanted to know the truth. All the speculations and over-thinking without any real conclusive evidence was driving her to the brink of a mental breakdown. They sat in silence for a moment, back to back against the door, and she felt a small amount of comfort from Minho's presence despite not being able to see or touch him.

"The dream..." he started again. "Do you think it was real?"

She bit her lip before replying. "The few others that I had before that were pretty similar. All terrifying and full of death. Really cheerful."

He chuckled. "They don't think it's real... this thing between us."

"And what makes them so certain?" she felt a prick of anger and indignation at the others.

"Right?" his voice matched hers. "It's easy for them to make things up."

"Do... do you think it's real?" her voice came out small and her heart stuttered nervously.

He hesitated. "I don't think it's not real either."

She accepted that and found herself thinking the same way. Suddenly, there was a creak from the bottom of the stairs and she felt her body tense. Minho fell silent as well, then she heard another voice through the door.

"I knew you'd be here," it was Newt, and he sounded annoyed. "It hasn't even been a whole day, Minho, honestly!"

"I just wanted to make sure she was okay!" the older boy retorted. "Come on, man, this is stupid. What's the point in keeping us apart?"

"Do you even hear yourself?" Newt asked. "You're shucking obsessed with her!"

The word he used shocked them speechless. Even Minho, who usually always had something ready to say, was mute. Obsessed? Surely, that was going too far. There was the sound of shuffling from the corridor outside and she guessed Minho had stood up.

"That's not fair, man," she heard him say heatedly before his footsteps stormed back downstairs.

She sat there in shock for a moment and heard Newt's voice through the crack as if he was leaning in to whisper into her ear.

"I'm sorry, Cass... we're just trying to look out for the both of ya."

Then he left. The Homestead felt cold and hollow after their departure. Cassandra slowly made her way back to the bed to collapse on top of it. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and feelings that she wouldn't be able to put into coherent sentences. She just wanted it all to go away.

* * *

 _Antiseptic and disinfectant filled the air, making her feel nauseous. She was vaguely aware of the tubes attached to various parts of her body and a bandage was wrapped tightly around her head. Her body felt light and fluffy, like she was enveloped in a cloud of warmth. There were people talking outside the room and someone had left the door ajar. It was next to her bed so she could make out the voices somewhat._

 _"It's incredible, Chancellor, one of a kind," a man was saying._

 _"What is it?" the Chancellor asked, his voice deep and clipped._

 _"The other Immunes and the rest of the victims- the Flare invaded the entire Killzone. But this girl, it's confined to just one area. The prefrontal cortex."_

 _She couldn't hear what the Chancellor said next._

 _"Yes, the Swype won't be able to function properly, if at all. But I heard Tech had something else similar in the works that could potentially substitute. It would be very interesting to include her in the Trials."_

 _"Get Psych to evaluate her."_

 _The two men continued speaking but she was pulled back into that soft cloud and oblivion took her back into its embrace. The next time she awoke, there was a woman dressed in white standing next to the bed with ash blonde hair and blood red lips. She smiled down at her when_ _the girl_ _blinked her eyes open and her body instinctively went tensed as she eyed the stranger cautiously._

 _"Hello there," the woman said sweetly. "How are you feeling? You had a rough time out there before we found you, didn't you?"_

 _She closed her eyes briefly before snapping them back open again._

 _"My friend-" she croaked and immediately went into a coughing fit._

 _The woman hurriedly passed her a glass of water from the bedside table and the young girl drank it down in big gulps. She looked down at her intently with wide crystalline blue eyes._

 _"Your friend is fine," she said in a slow and even voice. "I'm Dr Clark and I just want to ask you a few questions. Is that alright with you, sweetheart?"_

 _Her father used to only call her that whenever something bad was going to happen. He called her that just before he died. The young girl stared at the woman for a long while before finally nodding her head. After what she had been through, she knew she couldn't trust people so easily anymore but she wasn't in any position to be difficult at the moment. Dr Clark took a seat and picked up a clipboard from the floor. She crossed her legs and positioned her pen above the paper._

 _"Can you tell me your name, sweetheart?"_

 _"Soyun."_

 _"That's a very pretty name, Soyun," the doctor smiled. "And how old are you?"_

 _"Twelve."_

 _"Where were you from?"_

 _Soyun paused, brow wrinkling. The doctor kept her eyes on the little girl's face but her hand continued scribbling across the paper on the clipboard._

 _"You mean before the Sun Flares, or after?"_

 _"Before, sweetheart."_

 _"I was born in South Korea, but my family moved to France when I was three," she repeated the lines she had memorised so long ago. "We went to America on a holiday to visit family friends."_

 _They had been there for all of two days when it happened. As luck would have it, they had been on the subtrans when the sun decided to explode. That had been four years ago. She immediately thought about the boy that had been with her throughout their entire ordeal, the boy that she owed her life to on so many occasions._

 _"I want to see my friend."_

 _"I'll bring you to him after I've finish asking a few more questions. Okay, sweetie?" the woman smiled brightly, showing her pearly white teeth._

 _Soyun instantly hated this woman with her immaculate hair, makeup and clean clothes. She had probably been safe when it happened, protected by some organisation or whatever- only heard about the horrors lurking outside these walls, not seen them. For all she knew, the woman was one of the people who had let it happen. The young girl sighed in annoyance and turned her head to look away and the doctor took it as a sign to continue._

 _She answered a few more questions; about her family, her life before and after the Flares. Soyun felt her patience wearing thin. The things that happened after the Flare were things that she never wanted to remember ever again. If she could just make them disappear somehow, she was fine with that._

 _She just wanted everything to go away. She wanted to be back in Paris, eating buttered croissants in the cafe across the street and listening to the old man playing the violin outside. But that was a different life, a life led by someone she hardly even knew anymore._

 _Finally, the woman stood up and motioned for her to do the same. She was then led out of the room and towards the end of the corridor. Another room was tucked away in the corner and Dr Clark opened its door._

 _A young boy laid on the bed, flipping through a small book. She recognised the cover, it was a collection of short stories by Thomas Hardy. They had both read it a thousand times over in the past four years, retelling the stories to each other. Looking at his small frame lying there made her realise exactly how young they both were. But she didn't feel young and the bitter glare in the boy's eyes was not characteristic of a young child._

 _They didn't used to be like that; they used to be soft and warm, filled with life and laughter. She knew him ever since she could remember, celebrated her birthday with him every single year without fail. They had seen so much, experienced too much to be called children anymore._

 _He looked up at her then, not recognising her at first, then he grinned and called her name. She ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck, catching him by surprise. Relief rushed through her entire body as the boy returned her hug fiercely and squeezed her sides tightly. She allowed herself to hope right then and a small thought hovered at the back of her mind._

 _They made it. They were safe._


	18. POLYXENE

**ACT I SCENE XVIII**  
 **POLYXENE**

* * *

 **NEWT ROUSED HER** the next morning, about an hour after wake-up. Cassandra guessed that he'd been waiting for Minho to leave for the Maze. He brought her breakfast and a bucket of water to clean herself up with. He didn't stay for very long but at least he left the door open. Sometimes, a Glader would walk by her room and she'd call them in for a chat or to get her something. Anything to keep her from expiring of boredom.

On the sixth day, she decided that she had enough of lying around in the room and started lying around outside by the Gardens instead. To Newt and Clint's great chagrin, that is. She would try to lure Bark away from the Blood House to play with him with scraps from the kitchen. When she couldn't find the dog, she would annoy the other Gladers- especially Gally. Cassandra couldn't help finding amusement in the way he would yell empty threats at her when she knew full well that he wouldn't dare touch her. When it was almost time for the Runners to be back, Newt would shoo her back into the Homestead.

Once Minho came back earlier than usual. They looked at each other for a while and it seemed like he was about to take a step in her direction when Alby came over and stood between them. She didn't know which was worse, the lingering empty feeling of not being able to talk with Minho or the anxiety from her compulsion to talk with Minho. She felt that both were equally pretty bad.

Lee would sneak up to her room on some evenings with a cookie and a small note from Minho. The notes never said much other than to tell her that the Maze was boring without her and that he wanted to punch Nick in the face. But they never failed to make her grin widely and have the best sleep of her life. There would be a light spring in her step for the next couple of days and Newt would look at her strangely.

In a great show of being as difficult as she could possibly be, Cassandra started carving the number of days she was stuck in that room on the wall. Newt was not impressed, although she did manage to get her hands on a few small blocks of wood which she sculpted into strange shapes when she was stuck in the room again. She gave those to Lee and told him to give them to Minho. The Runner complained that there was a line of her weird carvings in the Map Room now so she started making miniature Grievers for them too.

She'd been lying down on a blanket outside and messing around with a sculpture when Newt came over and dropped a couple of packets on her. He folded his arms as she squinted at him unhappily, then picked one up to inspect. It was the request that she had put into the Box.

"Sunflowers and daisies?" he asked. "Really?"

A full-blown grin spread across her face. "Yes! Finally!"

He chuckled at her enthusiasm and helped her up to find a patch to grow the flowers. Zart came over to help too, trying to look like he was just there to supervise but she knew he was just as eager as she was. They would take a few weeks to grow but she was so excited that she kept fussing over them every few minutes until Zart told her to stop.

* * *

A couple of weeks passed by like that until Cassandra felt that she was able to walk around without the crutches. She still had a small limp, which caught a lot of teasing from some of the boys whenever she was walking next to Newt.

One day, she was just sitting on her bed trying to think of something to do when an idea struck her. She managed to corner Frankie who had ended up as a Med-jack, of all things. Cassandra found him taking stock of their inventory for the Box which was due again pretty soon. The boy looked at her suspiciously as she brought him outside towards the back of the Homestead, but he was still the new kid so he didn't want to make any trouble for himself. She thought he was a pretty decent guy, and felt a tiny bit guilty for what she was going to do next.

"Okay, so I need your help," she said, peeking behind a wall.

She spied the eastern side of the Glade, where the boys were hard at work on the fields. The Builders were helping the Track-hoes fix up their irrigation system. She found who she was looking for and grabbed Frankie by the shirt, pulling him to peek around the corner with her.

"You know Gally, right?" she smiled as he nodded. "I need you to distract him for me."

"What?" he cried out. "Why? And why me?"

"Look, I know you might have heard some stuff about me from the others," she looked at him. "But believe me when I say that I am twenty times a lot worse than that."

She watched him as his face fell into a horrified mask and gulped. It took all her willpower to stop herself from grinning wickedly before turning to look at Gally again. He was sitting apart from the others, perched on a supply box with some of his tools. It was the perfect opportunity since everyone had their attention elsewhere. She turned back to Frankie expectantly.

"Go on," she gestured.

"W-what? But I don't know what to distract him with," he stuttered nervously.

Cassandra crossed her arms and looked around. She grabbed a shovel nearby and brought it to the window to pry a couple of wooden panes from the frame. The shovel dropped back to the ground and Frankie could not possibly look any more scandalised than he did at that moment.

"There," she dusted her hands. "Tell him to fix it."

"What! You can't just-"

"But I just did," she clapped him on the shoulder. "Now it's your turn."

Frankie looked at the broken window frame then to her. Sighing in resignation, he started to jog over towards Gally. She watched as the Builder rolled his eyes exasperatedly and stood up. That was her cue to leave and she made her way to the other side of the Homestead, going in a big circle towards the fields.

The Gladers had stopped paying much attention to her anymore, wholly ignoring her at times when she tried to strike up conversation. That suited her just fine as she filched through the supply boxes. She grabbed a few things then stopped when she saw a couple of Gally's secret recipe concoctions. Pilfering those too, she headed back into the Homestead as quickly as she could hobble.

Cassandra dropped her stolen goods on a table in the kitchen and rubbed her hands together gleefully. She sorted them out into neat stacks and turned around to grab some more items from the kitchen, only to come face to face with Newt who was staring her down stonily. A loud gasp escaped her and she stumbled back into the table with a wince.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, sounding like a mother having caught her child stealing red-handed.

"Shuck, Newt, you scared the hell out of me," she breathed, slowly trying to inch away from him.

"Cass," he cocked his head to the side.

"Calm down," she held her hands up. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Uh-huh," he raised an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"I'm going hunting," she said. "For beetle blades."

"Hunting beetle blades," he deadpanned. "And what are you going to do when you've caught one?"

She shrugged. "I haven't thought about that yet."

"We've tried it before, you know," he told her. "They're bloody fast little buggers."

"But you've never tried trapping them, have you?" she went around the table and picked up random objects.

"Hm..." Newt hummed thoughtfully. "Well, alright, then."

He wished her luck and left with a wave.


	19. LAOCÔON

**ACT I SCENE XIX**  
 **LAOCOÔN**

* * *

 **SHE SPENT THE WHOLE DAY** making traps from bottles and little boxes to put around corners of the Homestead; places where she had seen hints of silver and red. After the first few days of nothing, she thought that maybe her traps just weren't good enough. Gally found out about her thieving and got a little mad about it, then helped her revise the traps.

It was only after a week had passed that she finally remembered about the beetle blade tree in the Deadheads. She told Gally about it and he helped her camouflage a few more traps to set in the forest. The very next day, she limped to the middle of the Glade with her very own beetle blade trapped in a glass jar over her head and yelled excitedly. A few of the Gladers ran up to her to take a look.

"Oh, my God, that's disgusting!" Winston cried out.

"What the hell is that?!" Adam stared at it with revulsion.

"Guys, it's just a beetle blade," she deadpanned.

Now that they had a closer look, the beetle blades were more like centipedes with cylindrical bodies and numerous thin protruding legs. The metallic silver insect kept running around in circles and banging its head against the walls of the jar in an attempt to free itself. Its little red light darting around angrily as it did so. The most astonishing thing about it was the splash of green across its front. Six letters that spelled out a single word: WICKED. She showed it to Newt who examined it with curiosity.

"D'yu think there's someone controlling the bugger?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Beats me."

"You really shouldn't be touching them," he looked at her but she could see the excited glint in his eyes. "They could be poisonous for all we know."

"I think they're battery operated," she crossed her arms. "You know that big beetle tree at the back of the Deadheads? I think they go there to charge or something. They gather there like once every week. I bet if we leave it here long enough, it'll lose all its juice."

"You could be on to something," he rubbed his chin. "But I don't know... what if _they_ get angry that we're messing around with their stuff?"

"One missing little camera bug isn't going to hurt anyone," she picked up the jar and looked at the creepy little mechanical creature. "Hey, if we freeze it, do you think we'd be able to break it?"

"Freeze it?" Newt raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't know. You could try?"

"Okay," she grinned and headed towards the kitchen.

"And...?" Newt followed her. "How are you going to break it open?"

"Um... with a hammer?" she asked.

"Gross."

"By the way, have you seen its bottom?"

"Yeah, WICKED," he said then paused. "That night when you went crazy..."

She stopped to look at him. Her heart thumped whenever anyone brought it up, as if they were summoning a demon to take possession of her again. Though she knew that it was definitely no demon or supernatural occurrence. Newt continued to look at her scrutinisingly.

"You said it a few times," he went on. "WICKED is good. I remember that part clearly."

"Maybe it's a sign," she shrugged and stuck the jar in the freezer, hiding it behind some meat at the bottom. She just hoped none of the Cooks would find it and freak out. Chances were that it would be Ed, especially with his luck.

"Any idea what it might mean though?" Newt asked, not bothering to hide the exasperation from his tone.

She thought about it for a moment before her mind wandered towards Minho. The sky outside had started to dim and she guessed it was almost time for the Runners to be back. She hadn't spoken to Minho in weeks and only caught glimpses of him from her window, the only communication they had was through Lee.

Cassandra didn't want to admit it, even to herself, but she missed him so much. She missed his stupid smirk and the stupid dimples in his cheeks. To be able to hear his voice and the animated way he talked about things. His enthusiasm at practically almost everything and the solid warmth of his hand. She missed running with him in the Maze.

The Maze.

She remembered the words she had found in the Maze, under the thick wall of ivy. It suddenly clicked in her head and she abruptly turned to face Newt.

"World In Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department."

"What?" he looked at her in confusion.

"WICKED!" she exclaimed. "It stands for World In Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department. Please don't make me repeat that again. Ugh, of course, it's all connected!"

"Well..." Newt looked up in thought. "I don't feel a whole lot better from knowing that."

"But why would WICKED be good?" she frowned, shaking her head.

"Who bloody knows? Anyway, it's time for the Runners to be back and for _you_ to go back upstairs."

"No."

They turned around at the sound of a familiar voice at the doorway. Cassandra's eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. It was Minho. Her Minho. Standing right in front of her. She half expected Newt to start shoving her back upstairs but he just stood there, staring at the boy as well. The Runner held his index finger up.

"One: Neither of us are going crazy," he said. "Two: I don't give a shuck anymore! Three: I need Cassie back because if Nick is going to start being my Running buddy, I am going to hijack a Griever to maul his ass with it."

She pressed her lips into a thin line and glanced at Newt. He looked back with raised eyebrows and a faint look of resignation on his face then gave a small shrug. She took it as permission enough and flew across the room to throw her arms around Minho's neck. He greeted her with wide-open arms, grinning from ear to ear. She missed him so much.

* * *

They still didn't allow her back into the Maze. Her ankle hadn't fully healed up yet and Clint didn't want to risk her fracturing it on the off chance that they might meet with another Griever. She continued to keep the room to herself, since she was still 'a patient'. But honestly, she just didn't want to give up the bed just yet even though sleeping outside would mean being closer to Minho.

Just like the Runner had said, she didn't give a shuck about what they thought anymore. If wanting to be with Minho meant that she was obsessively attached to him, then so be it.

Cassandra walked towards the window to peer outside. It was almost completely dark and most of the Gladers had already gone to sleep. There was a lone figure in the distance, walking across the Glade in the direction of the Map Room. She squinted her eyes to take a better look and noticed a little reflection glinting off the boy's face. It was definitely Nick. She watched him as he made his way to his destination and swung the handle to the little building open then disappeared inside.

A moment later, she recognised Alby's silhouette follow the other boy into the building as well. She was sorely tempted to go out to spy on them but figured that someone would see her and give her away. So she went to bed instead.

* * *

 _The boy was only a year or so younger than her but he had already managed to outgrow her in height. He sat across from her at the table and ruffled his short dark brown hair._

 _She leaned her elbow against the thin metal arm of the chair and rested her face on her hand in a bored manner. Her heavily dark rimmed eyes stared at him hauntingly. The veins in her eyelids were bruised and purplish, creating a stark contrast against her pale skin. Four_ _straight weeks with hardly any_ _sleep would do that to a person. There were scratches along the side of her forehead and arms from where she had raked her nails across her skin. Her dark hair hung limply like a heavy curtain framing her sunken face._

 _"I haven't seen you in so long," she spoke, her voice low and raspy. "I thought you've forgotten all about me."_

 _The boy buried his face in his hands, ignoring her. She stuck her tongue in her cheek before continuing, eyes boring into the top of his head._

 _"I heard screaming last night. And it wasn't me."_

 _He sighed heavily and finally looked up. Her heated glare made him avert his gaze again. He could never look her in the eye. It always consumed him with guilt; the way she looked at them with such fervent hatred._

 _"If I had to guess," she went on, examining the chipped nails on her other hand. "It sounded like people were dying..."_

 _The muscle in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. She had always been clever, would always be able to deduce their variables and infer their hypotheses. But circumstance forced them to draw the lots they had._

 _"We didn't have a choice," he said bitterly. "They were already Gone. It was the only thing we could do. The right thing. They told us..."_

 _His voice faltered and her gaze was unsympathetic. She didn't give a single damn about what happened to them, not after the things they had put her through, all in the name of finding a Cure. It was because she was the only one and they had been so certain that she was the key to mapping the virus' pathway in the Killzone. It was the data that she had given them that they were able to come up with a plan. The Trials._

 _"Boohoo," she leaned forwards and rested her arms on the table instead. "Did you want a sympathetic shoulder to cry on? Someone to rub your back and tell you what a good boy you've been? Thomas, the Golden Boy, our top candidate. Oh, and what have you done now?"_

 _He knew her far too long to give in to her mocking, knew that he probably deserved it anyway._

 _"All of us agreed to this, Cass, you know that," he said softly. "You, me, Teresa, the other kids... even Minho."_

 _"Don't you dare," she hissed venomously at him. "Don't you dare justify what you've done. After stealing him from me, after stealing everyone from me."_

 _"Cassandra..." he tried to reason with her. "What other choice do we have? You've seen it first-hand out there. We need this. It's the only way we can save the world."_

 _"Save the world," she scoffed. "There's nothing left to save. Stop buying into their bullshit when they were the ones who destroyed everything!"_

 _Her voice raised to a piercing shriek and he winced at the ringing in his eardrums. He could see her chest heaving with heated emotion. Cassandra looked away, as if she felt sorry for lashing out, then her eyes flicked up to meet his face again._

 _"Did you know that it's been exactly nine years since the Sun Flares?" she asked him. "Do you know how I know that? Ask me how I know that."_

 _Thomas looked at her, gritting his teeth, and humoured her. She chuckled and there was a mad light in her eyes. For a moment, his heart sputtered with a stab of fear. He imagined that's how she looked at people right before she killed them. The look of a girl driven mad by anger, fear and sorrow. She's killed men twice his size for crying out loud- and her own dog. She didn't have an ounce of mercy left in her entire soul._

 _"Because it's my birthday," Cassandra told him in a singsong voice._

 _He stood up and headed towards the door. Sleep deprivation or not, he didn't want to risk having his eyes clawed out by the crazy angry girl._

 _"I'm sorry, Cass," he said, pausing with his hand on the handle. "I really am."_

 _"Sorry won't fix anything, Thomas."_

 _He felt the void in his heart grow deeper. She was right. She was irrevocably right._


	20. IPHIGENIA

**ACT I SCENE XX**  
 **IPHIGENIA**

* * *

 **SHE WOKE UP TO SCREAMING.** Her initial thought was that she was still dreaming, but the screams got louder and louder until they were right outside her room. She could hear Alby and Newt's voices participating in a chorus of yelling and curses of bloody hells. Someone was bounding up the stairs with quick heavy footsteps, and Minho's voice joined in. He sounded angry too. Cassandra wondered whether she could try hard enough to block the noises out and go back to sleep.

Whoever it was that was screaming let out a terrifically wounded howl.

She tore the covers off herself and jumped out of bed, reaching the door in three quick strides to wrench it open. The corridor was empty. Cassandra's eyes flicked to her right, towards the room at the farthest end of the floor and made her way to the open door. She instantly regretted it when she stepped over the threshold.

It was Gally. He was screaming and thrashing his limbs violently. Dark green and black veins protruded from his skin and spittle flew from his mouth. Zart, Alby, Minho and Newt were struggling to keep his body under control, each one pinning down a limb to the bed.

Clint rushed across the room to grab a wooden box from a drawer. He opened it and there was a row of metal encased syringes inside. The boy quickly grabbed one of them and headed back towards Gally, jabbing the injection into his thick arm.

Cassandra waited but it didn't seem to have done anything, Gally looked as deranged as before. His face had turned a tinge of purple from all his screaming. Minho finally noticed her, as did Newt, and she stared at them with her jaw wide open.

"What are you doing?!" the Runner yelled at her. "Don't just stand there gawking!"

"Cass, whatever it is you need," Newt grunted. "Now isn't the bloody time."

"I need him to bloody shut up, that's what I need him to do," she grumbled and gestured at Gally. "What happened to him anyway?"

"What do you bloody think happened?!" Newt snapped, and then lost his grip on the Builder's arm. It hit Clint in the jaw and sent the Med-jack sprawling against the cupboards behind them. He blacked out.

"Oh, for the love of..." Minho rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Cassie, wake the shuck up! He's been stung!"

"Oh..." she continued to stare at them before blinking in realisation. " _Oh!_ "

She started to panic and looked around the room anxiously, totally unprepared for this sudden situation. Her heart hammered inside her chest at the sudden rush of adrenaline and Minho rolled his eyes at her again.

"What do I do?!" she yelled over the screaming, grasping her head between her hands.

"Find something to shut him up with!" Alby yelled back.

Cassandra went to the nearest counter and started randomly throwing things around. She found a piece of cloth in a drawer and grabbed it to stuff Gally's mouth with. His screaming became less intolerable but he was still kicking up a huge fuss. She took a step back out of harm's reach when a limb came dangerously close to her head and left the heavy muscling to the boys.

"Didn't Clint give him a serum?" she asked. "Why's he still like that?"

"It takes time," Newt said with a strained voice. "A couple of days at least."

" _Days_?!"

Gally let out a long drawn out muffled scream, his eyes flying open to reveal black sclera. Cassandra swore loudly.

"What the hell!" she screeched and pointed. " _What_ the hell?!"

As if reacting to her voice, Gally started struggling harder and it took all their combined efforts to keep him down on the bed. Somehow he managed to spit the rag out and was now yelling at the top of his voice.

"I SAW HER! I SAW HER!" he looked at Cassandra, eyes bulging. "THEY HAD HER TRAPPED IN THE ROOM!"

She was starting to feel sick. The boy's greenish black veins seemed to pulsate all along his body. It looked like things were crawling inside his veins, polluting his nervous system. Newt stuffed the rag back into Gally's mouth but he kept screaming incoherently and straining against their holds. He looked like he was on the verge of breaking his own body. Cassandra took a step backwards, towards the door.

"He... saw me...?" she mumbled to herself.

"I've had enough of you," Alby glared at her. "Get out!"

She didn't have to be told twice. Cassandra turned and fled the scene. She ran down the stairs and out of the Homestead until she reached the Gardens but Gally's screams could still be heard. Her foot tripped over an abandoned hoe and she bumped into a younger boy with sandy blonde hair. He reminded her of a miniature Newt and she couldn't help but stare. The boy looked up at her, startled, and started sputtering apologies. She didn't remember ever seeing him in the Glade before, but she knew his name was Fitz.

"How did you get here?" she blurted, acutely aware of how stupid it sounded.

"I'm uh... new here. Arrived a couple days ago."

"What!" she cried out incredulously. "But Frankie just got here!"

"You mean _Henry_ just got here."

She whirled around to find Nick standing behind her and she gave him a weird look.

"What Henry?" she scrunched her nose up at him.

"I'm Henry," a stocky black haired kid raised his hand from the side, in the middle of weeding.

She stared at him as if he had mysteriously sprouted out from the Gardens itself. Nick wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her away from the Gardens and the two Greenies she had completely missed out on. She felt all kinds of disoriented at the moment.

"Exactly how long have I been stuck inside?" she muttered to herself and rubbed her head with perplexity. She guessed she had just been too wrapped up in her own world.

"Weren't you scratching the number of days on the wall?" Nick asked her.

"Yeah, but I stopped bothering to count."

He gave his trademark shrug. They walked to the middle of the Glade and stopped next to the Box. Pure empty darkness lay underneath the grated metal, stretching on for who knew how many miles. She looked at Nick who was staring down into the empty chasm. He seemed lost in thought and she snapped her fingers twice to get his attention. Blinking slowly, he then turned his eyes to hers.

"I wonder... whether we're really trying hard enough to get out of here," he said.

Cassandra frowned at the sudden question and asked exactly what he meant by that. The boy sighed despondently and ruffled his already messy hair. The light reflecting off his glasses blocked out his eyes, but she was sure they were full of worry. She looked away, pursing her lips together thoughtfully.

"At least people haven't given up hope yet," she tried to say encouragingly.

"Haven't they?" he raised his eyebrows and gave her a knowing look.

They both knew that neither of them were entirely right. The Runners were probably the only ones who still had hope or else they wouldn't be risking their lives out there everyday. As for the rest of the Gladers, it was fifty-fifty. The Glade was safe and peaceful; the only thing they needed to worry about was getting a nasty splinter or stepping on a rusted nail. Some even thought that they could actually live there for the rest of their lives behind those four walls. Cassandra crossed her arms and frowned at the thought. Learned helplessness at its best.

"Not all of us," she muttered but he heard her.

"Listen, Cass," he said. "I want to be able to eliminate as many possibilities as I can. But I need you to do me a favour."

She hesitated, not entirely trusting him yet to readily agree. It wasn't that she hated the boy or anything like that, he seemed pretty genuine when it came to the wellbeing of the Gladers. She just wasn't sure whether that generosity extended to her as well.

"I'll do what I can," she said at last.

"Just make sure I'm never alone," he said. "Not ever."

"Why?" she frowned.

"I'm afraid I might end up doing something really stupid."

Cassandra looked away and her frown deepened. She didn't want to feel obligated to Nick but she couldn't help it with what he just asked of her. He must have told at least Alby or Newt as well so she wouldn't have sole responsibility for his actions. Her head was nodding nevertheless and she wondered what kind of 'stupid' things he would do.

After that, she left Nick by the Box and headed back towards the Homestead. There wasn't much for her to do so she checked on the beetle blade trapped at the bottom of the freezer, its little angry red light was blinking slowly now. She took that as a good sign that it was dying like she wanted it to do. Frypan was prepping chicken in the kitchen so she helped him out.

It was probably a couple of hours later that Gally's screaming stopped. Alby and Minho reappeared downstairs and she tried to catch their eye but both boys made an immediate exit out of the Homestead. She followed after them, making sure to keep quiet and hid behind a section of a wall that jutted out of the Homestead to eavesdrop on them.

"Did you see exactly what happened?" Alby was asking in a hushed voice.

"Yeah..." Minho replied. "I heard him say he saw a Griever nearby. He said it kept looking at him from behind a wall. Then he ran inside and got stung."

"Idiot."

She saw Minho nodding his head in agreement. They discussed what they were going to do with him, whether he should be punished or not. Alby mentioned locking him up in the Slammer for a couple of days without any food then he walked away in the direction of the Gardens. Cassandra leaned against the outer wall of the building in thought. She looked up at the sound of footsteps and Minho was raising an eyebrow at her with his arms crossed.


	21. CAMICOI

**ACT I SCENE XXI**  
 **CAMICOI**

* * *

 **MINHO HAD A HINT** of a smirk on his face and she could tell that he wasn't surprised at seeing her there. She feigned innocence as she gazed back up at him, pretending as if she was right where she was supposed to be. Which to her, she was.

"Eavesdropping's your new job now?" he asked her.

"I ain't droppin' no eaves, sir," she responded.

His lip twitched at the side and she looked at him with a straight face. A second later, they broke out into wide grins and laughed loudly. She missed hearing his laugh, it sent a jolt through her veins that was both satisfying and excitable.

"So, what's going to happen to him?" she asked when they settled down.

"We don't know yet," he sighed. "Alby's gonna call a Gathering once the shank's better. Then we'll decide what to do with him."

"A Gathering?" Cassandra raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Gathering of the Council. It's just us Keepers with Nick, Alby and Newt," he explained.

She folded her arms as well and gave him her best smile. Minho chuckled, knowing exactly what she wanted and shook his head. "Nope."

"I haven't even said anything!" she exclaimed.

"You don't have to," he smirked. "Come on."

He took her shoulders and led her back into the Homestead. She asked whether he was going back into the Maze and he shook his head. It was too late for him to head back out, he didn't want to risk getting stuck out there. She tried not to look too pleased about that but she couldn't wait to go back into the Maze either. Being inactive for so long made her want to run so badly. She was also glad that she could now talk to Minho again. Have a meal with Minho. Take a walk with Minho. Touching Minho. Especially that. He was nice to touch.

Minho had managed to persuade Frypan to let them make some bacon sandwiches. She tried to bring herself back to reality when Newt joined them in the kitchen. Immediately as he sat down and grabbed one of their sandwiches, he was asking Minho a dozen questions per second. It took the Runner a moment to even digest half a question so Newt had to repeat himself a few times.

" _Why_ did he do it?" the blonde started. "We all know Gally, he's a real sucker when it comes to the Rules. He would literally Banish himself for breaking any one of 'em."

"Banish?" Cassandra asked but they ignored her.

"Maybe he was just _really_ curious about this one?" Minho shrugged.

"He's watched at least four people get trapped in the Maze right in front of his face without any remorse."

"Wait, hold on-"

"Yeah, but he's never seen a Griever before, has he? Probably wanted a closer look."

"Don't you think it's even weirder that a Griever would come so near to the Glade and play hide-and-seek with us in _broad daylight_?" Cassandra frowned.

"Maybe he's being controlled," Newt pointed his sandwich in Minho's direction.

"Will the both of you stop ignoring me?!" she snapped.

They looked at her. "Sorry, what did you say?" Minho asked through a mouthful of bacon. Cassandra rolled her eyes and shook her head in chagrin. Usually when they excluded her from a conversation, it was because they didn't want her to get involved. She felt that it was already a little too late for that.

"What did you mean by Banish?" she asked the one question that worried her the most.

"We mean exactly what we mean by it," Newt told her. "We push them out with a little stick and bam. Banished."

She stared at him, trying to fight the overwhelming urge to punch him. Usually she felt like punching Minho for saying something dumb and Newt would be the one to calm her down with something sensible. This time, Minho was the one to do it. First Gally wilfully runs into the Maze and gets stung. Now Minho and Newt exchanged roles. Was Alby going to give her a present next?

"He's not kidding, Cassie. We really do push them out with a stick."

"And... what? You leave them out there to die?" she asked, horrified.

"They were already dead before we Banished them," he told her quietly.

"Are you going to Banish Gally?" she frowned.

"We don't know that yet," Newt replied.

She looked down at her half-eaten sandwich moodily. Something about the circumstances leading up to Gally being stung didn't sit quite right with her. Newt hadn't been wrong, the Builder adhered to the Glade's Rules as passionately as if he had been the one to carve them into stone himself. There was no way he would run into the Maze on his own will.

"Wait, I just remembered something..." Minho started. "Alby told me that Gally wanted to become a Runner sometime ago."

"Why? He loves being a Builder," Newt raised a curious eyebrow.

The Runner shrugged. "I know, right? Sounded like he was having an existential crisis."

Cassandra finished her sandwich and leaned back in her seat. Nothing felt right at the moment. It was like she was trapped in some kind of bizarre alternate reality where the opposite of things that usually happened, happened. She looked out the window and saw Nick teaching one of the Greenies how to use a hoe. How could anyone possibly use a hoe wrongly? What other way was there to use a hoe? Then she remembered something.

She stood up abruptly from her seat, startling Minho and Newt. They glanced at each other before looking back at her.

"Cass, you know we were just messing around with ya," Newt was saying. "There's no need to get angry."

"We'll answer every question you have, just don't beat us up," Minho said quickly, shrinking away when she turned her head to him in confusion.

"What are you..." she sighed and rolled her eyes again. "No, look, I just want to talk with Nick."

"You... want to talk... with Nick?" Newt asked slowly, seemingly incapable of comprehending what she was saying.

It sounded ridiculous to her as well.

"Cassie, you can just talk with us! I swear we won't ignore you again!"

"Just... just wait here!" she cried out in exasperation and hurried out of the kitchen.

Cassandra looked around the Glade, feeling her skin rise at a slight breeze, and rubbed her arms as she scanned the faces of the boys working in the Gardens. She just saw him a moment ago, and he was already gone. Again. Like a bloody ghost!

Finally, she spotted his familiar figure walking towards the Deadheads and groaned out loud. Of all the places he could go to, he chose the creepy dark shadow lands of the Glade. She debated with herself whether she should just wait until the boy didn't have any sudden urges of visiting graveyards but this couldn't wait. She had to know now.

Cassandra steeled herself and made her way towards the cluster of trees in the distance. It was probably only a couple of hours past noon. The light was still bright in the sky but only slivers penetrated through the thick canopy of the Deadheads. Even her breath felt colder inside there, but that could just be her imagination.

She tracked the boy's footsteps through the mud and leaves, following his trail. Eventually, she reached a shallow stream that led up towards the tombstones. She had been there only once before when she was on duty with the Baggers. They came here once a month whenever a new Greenie arrived to clean the graves.

It had been the most harrowing experience of her life by far, especially with Jackson's beady eyes constantly on the back of her neck. It made her shudder from just remembering it. She called for Nick, having lost his trail along the stream and wondered where could he be.

There was a snap from up ahead and she turned in its direction then walked a few steps closer. Someone was crouching in a corner, his face shrouded by shadow, and it almost gave her a heart attack with how creepy he looked. But it was just Nick. She breathed a small sigh of relief when she finally found him.

"Dude, I called you like a hundred times, least you could do was answer back," she complained.

He turned slowly to look at her. His messy dark hair covered the top half of his face and his glasses were completely fogged up. There was an awkward moment where he looked like he hadn't actually registered that she was standing there.

"Oh... sorry, I didn't hear you," he finally said.

"Yeah, apparently it's Cassandra Is Invisible Day," she muttered sarcastically to herself.

The boy stood up and rubbed his hands clean on his pants. He sniffed and took off his glasses to wipe away the condensation. His eyes were red. Cassandra had an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach and she shifted on her feet nervously.

"Are you... okay?" she asked out of pure concern.

"Yeah, I'm good," he replied quickly. "What did you need?"

Nick was always so polite. He never yelled or cursed people out for bothering him, always apologised and minded his manners. She wished she had met him before he got stung by a Griever, but then she wouldn't be here at that exact moment in time either.

"I need to know what you saw," she blurted out before she could have any second thoughts. "During the Changing. I need to know what you saw during the Changing. Of me."

Nick looked at her in silence, blinking once before chuckling. He rubbed the back of his neck and scratched his cheek uncertainly.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"Anything at all," she shrugged. "Gally yelled that he saw me trapped in a room."

"I saw you a few times," he started. "You used to be with us. Like studying and eating together. Then they started putting you in this room and we saw you a lot less. They did things to you... experiments, I think. You were always screaming."

"Why... why did they do that to me?" she could feel her throat constrict and she forced herself to gulp.

"Something called Point Zero," he told her, shaking his head. "No clue what it means though. That's all I remember."

"Point Zero..." she whispered beneath her breath, engraving it into her long-term memory.

It sounded awfully familiar, but she couldn't dredge up any memory or dream about it. She hastily thanked Nick and turned around to sprint out of the Deadheads, her skin already felt like it was crawling. Her feet didn't stop running until she slammed through the door of the kitchen and looked around. Minho was still there and his head snapped up immediately to look at her noisy entrance.

"What the shuck are you doing?" he asked with burning curiosity.

She panted a little and wiped her forehead then walked over to sit at the table again. His eyes watched her questioningly and she sighed before starting.

"They saw me," she said numbly. "They both saw me during the Changing but why?"

Minho frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You heard Gally," she replied. "He saw me and so did Nick. They saw me screaming, being experimented on, something about a Point Zero."

She couldn't stop thinking about it. What was wrong with her? There had to be something- like some kind of error. Suddenly her heart started to accelerate as she took in shallow gasps of air. She felt like she had absolutely no control of her body as she continued to stare down at her hands.

"Cassie, you look pale."

He touched her arm and she shut her eyes as a sharp ringing pierced her eardrums. She saw flashes of images race through her mind; like clicking through a slide viewer at high speed. A knife glinting through the air, a woman with blonde hair and crystalline blue eyes. Brown hair, someone grabbing hold of her arm. Banging her bloodied fists against a glass window.

When it stopped, she found herself lying face down on the floor and Minho was shaking her shoulder. She blinked several times and pushed herself up gingerly. They were still in the kitchen, no one else was there so she hadn't screamed or anything crazy. Her gaze went back to Minho, his eyes full of concern.

"What happened?" she asked.

"You went into some kinda trance," he told her. "You just kept saying... 'please let me go' over and over again."

She took a deep breath and let it out shakily through her mouth. Minho raised his eyebrows at her expectantly and waited for an explanation. It had happened so quickly, she wasn't even sure if it had been real. The images were already starting to slip away from her consciousness. She looked back up at him and bit her lip, trying to find a place to start.

"It's fading, but I think I remember it too... they had me locked up, did things to me. I think they almost killed me a few times."

"Well, you're not trapped there anymore. You're here now, and you're safe," he told her, reaching over to squeeze her hand reassuringly.

She nodded her head and the flashes of memories started to dissolve into a vague summary of feelings. Pain. Sorrow. Loneliness. Anger. But there was one particular memory that stayed. A tall pale boy with short dark hair, the only person who visited her during her time in that room.

 _Thomas._


	22. ALETES

**ACT I SCENE XXII**  
 **ALETES**

* * *

 _ **SHE WANTED NOTHING MORE** than to lie in bed and never get up again. Her head pounded with the rhythm of drums- she was even starting to think that she could hear drums. It was starting to get louder and louder, reverberating inside her head with a steady beat as if she was a living metronome. The door opened and people in white flooded inside. They wore heavy hazard masks over their faces and each of them held a medical instrument in their hands. One of them walked towards her and bent down to place a hand on her shoulder._

 _"We're here to help," the person said, their voice muffled and distorted through the respiratory device._

 _She started to breathe harder as her eyes darted around the room and at the faceless people. Then she was strapped to a gurney, her limbs and neck tied down. They surrounded her. Someone was poking through her head and she could feel them prodding inside her brain. He made a disappointed sound behind her._

 _"Infested. There's nothing we can do here anymore."_

 _The people started to move around her, packing their equipment up silently. She strained against her bindings._

 _"W-what do you mean by that?" she asked, fear lacing her voice._

 _"Here, look for yourself."_

 _Someone brought a screen up in front of her and switched it on. The smooth black surface buzzed to life and a static picture appeared on it before blinking to another image. She saw a human brain, still in its skull, grey matter encasing it and blood pooling around on its side. But what was more evident still were the numerous black worms that were burrowing themselves inside it, their bodies wriggling with grotesque urgency. She stared in cold horror._

 _"See? Infested."_

 _Her eyes shut tight and she screamed, struggling against the metallic binds that were biting her skin raw. She screamed and screamed, then screamed louder. Someone was shaking her roughly, a voice trying to yell above hers but she couldn't see or hear anything other than the black creatures inside her._

"OPEN YOUR EYES! CASSANDRA, OPEN YOUR EYES!"

The voice calling her name felt like a lifeline, slowly pulling her back to reality and she tore her eyelids open. Tears blurred her vision and the panic made her choke on her own sobs.

Then a face swam into view; a boy with his brawny arms wrapped tightly around her, pinning her arms to her sides. She gasped, exhaling a deep shaky breath and her mind cleared enough to digest her surroundings. They were in the Homestead. In the Glade. Footsteps stormed up the stairs outside, then a blonde boy burst through the door with fervent panic. He dropped to his knees in front of her and took her hand in his.

"Cass? You were screaming bloody murder, what happened?" he asked her anxiously.

It was Newt. She gripped his warm hand and tried to focus on it. He was real- he was real flesh and blood, sitting in front of her. The other boy who had held her finally let go and got off the bed. He stepped away and she saw Gally eyeing her warily as if she would start screaming and clawing at the walls again. She turned back to Newt, his brown eyes looked at her with concern and she swallowed.

"I'm okay," she breathed. "It was... it was just a nightmare."

"You pulled a chunk of your hair out before I got to you," Gally pointed. "And almost took my eyes out."

She looked around the bed and found clumps of hair littering the white sheets. Her hand automatically reached up and felt her head but it didn't seem like she had pulled too much. There wasn't a bald spot, at least, but her scalp did feel sore.

"What was the nightmare about?" Newt asked.

"There were worms in my head... eating away at my brain."

"Oh, well, that's a charming image," he commented dryly, trying to lighten the mood.

"It felt so real... I could _feel_ them inside me," she shook her head and let out another shaky breath.

"Well, it's not real," Newt looked her in the eyes seriously. "You've been asleep here, in the Homestead. And there aren't any worms that crawl into our brains as far as I'm aware of."

She tried to smile but it ended up more like a grimace. It looked like a couple of hours had passed since the wake-up and her stomach growled. She needed food, it was like an incessant itch that needed to be scratched. Cassandra looked to Gally who was still standing there.

"Glad to see you're okay again," she said.

"Okay is a subective word," the Builder retorted.

She turned to Newt with wide eyes with her lip upturned. "It really does change a person, doesn't?"

"That's what I've been telling you shucks," the blonde retorted and stood up from the floor. "Come on, back to business as usual. You need to get some food. And you, well, we're gonna have a Gathering so you just be there."

"Can I-"

"No."

"But Newton-"

"No, Cass."

Cassandra sighed and Newt headed for the door, then turned around to look at Gally expectantly. The boy murmured that he would be right out, that he was just gonna have a quick word with Cassandra, and she turned to the boy curiously.

She still hadn't forgotten what he looked like when he had been stung. The bulging black veins and eyes, the way he screamed like a crazed beast. He seemed much better now, save for the dark circles under his eyes but those too would fade away in time. The only scar that would remain would be the one in his mind. Newt left the door open behind him and descended the stairs.

"I saw you," Gally started, turning to her. "They had you locked up in a room. You were... you kept screaming. Like just now but somehow worse. There was some kind of metal contraption on your head and you were bleeding."

Cassandra held her hand up to stop him and looked away, frowning deeply. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to hear the rest of what he had to say. It sounded pretty horrifying and she didn't want to trigger any more weird scenarios from her subconscious.

"There was this boy," he went on anyway. "He was always visiting you in the room. I remembered something about a Point Zero."

She looked at him then. There was a saying that she remembered, and it seemed to fit the situation at the moment. If one's an accident, two's a coincidence, then three's a pattern. There must be some kind of significance to this so-called Point Zero, if only she could just puzzle out what it was.

"Was his name Thomas?" she asked.

Gally shrugged. "I don't remember his name. But I'd recognise him if I ever saw him."

There was a pause as the boy shuffled his feet uneasily.

"Do you... ever remember anything else?" he asked her. "How it was before?"

"You saw it, didn't you?" she watched him carefully, saw the twitch of trepidation on his face.

"Yeah... I did. If it's true, if the world's really like that out there. I don't think I want to escape the Maze."

Cassandra frowned, not having expected that reaction. Nick had always been trying to find a way out, he never gave up on it, and being stung actually made it all the more crucial to him. But Gally was terrified. She wasn't entirely sure where she stood on the matter either, it seemed like the world out there and being stuck in the Maze were both lose-lose situations. At least they might have an actual chance out there- a shot at living their lives on their own terms. She didn't want to die in a cage.

"What do you remember?" Gally asked her again.

She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts and putting them back into their little compartments.

"I remember running," she told him. "I remember being scared and not being able to trust anyone. I remember starving and surviving. Kill or be killed."

"How can anyone be okay with taking another person's life?" he frowned at her, disturbed by the thought.

"You can when they're not a person anymore."

She looked back up at him, eyes hard as obsidians. His disbelief melted away to realisation, then confirmation. He still hadn't been able to believe the things he saw during the Changing. Whatever they were, she was sure it was as bad as the scenes she saw in her own dreams. It felt like everywhere they turned, almost certain death awaited them around the corner- something hideous that followed them wherever they went, like they were cursed.

Gally left her alone to get herself ready for the day ahead. She was descending the stairs when she overheard Alby speaking nearby. He was calling for the Keepers to head for the Gathering. Cassandra crouched down, hiding herself at the top of the stairs and it didn't take long for all of them to gather outside the Homestead. They started walking towards the other end of the building and she quickly went down to follow them.

There was a room behind the Homestead that was specially reserved for Gatherings, it was the size of three bedrooms joined together. Although they did still use it for times when everyone had to squeeze into the Homestead to sleep, like when it rained. Other times, they used it to store extra supplies when their storage room was filled up or for easy access for the Builders. Cassandra watched from behind a jutting wall as the Keepers filtered into the room for Gally's Gathering. Nick, Alby and Newt went in last after them and locked the door.

Cassandra slowly tiptoed her way towards the room and pressed her ear against the little crack between the door and the wall. She could just about hear what they were saying when she strained her hearing hard enough. It sounded like most of them weren't particularly keen on being there and Alby had to shut them all up. A few others were jokingly calling for Gally to get thrown out of the Glade.

"Okay, okay," Newt said with his voice raised. "Everyone just bloody slim it so we can get on with our lives again, alright? We all know why we're here. Gally did something bloody stupid by running out into the Maze against our rules and got his shuck ass stung by a Griever."

"Just throw him in the Slammer!" Winston said. "This is a waste of time!"

"No," Minho retorted. "I want to know exactly what was going through his shucking head when he chased after a shucking Griever on his own, knowing full well that he's not a shucking Runner."

There was a pause. Cassandra completely pressed herself flat against the door and waited for them to continue. She could hear Nick softly break the silence with his calm voice.

"You have anything to say, Gally?" he asked. "Did you want to get stung on purpose?"

"No!" Gally, who had been quiet up until then, exclaimed forcefully. "I didn't do it on purpose, don't be crazy. I saw a Griever peeking around a corner at me. It's not like it's never happened before, I've seen them lurking. But this one was different, it was like it was beckoning me. Trying to show me something."

"You thought the Griever was trying to _talk_ with you?" somebody interrupted him.

"Not like that! But it was weird so I went in to check it out. It ran away from me, but never too far that I'd lose sight of it. Eventually we ended up at the Cliff and it jumped down. When I went to look, it already disappeared, then another Griever stung me on the way back."

A round of silence came as a reply to Gally's explanation. Cassandra felt her own face twist into an expression of utter disbelief. She didn't know whether Gally was telling the truth or that the Changing had totally warped his perception on things and she thought the Keepers couldn't decide either.

"He's shucking mad," Frypan voiced their sentiments out loud.

"Mad or not, he still broke the rules," Newt said, loud enough for the room to hear. "He needs to be punished."

"All in favour for punishing Gally, raise your hands," Alby called.

There was some shuffling and Cassandra waited with bated breath. Alby then announced that the majority won out for punishment and they all took turns suggesting a suitable one for the boy. Eventually, the Slammer won that out.

There was a sudden flurry of movement from inside after Newt declared the Gathering done and Cassandra hastily pushed herself away.


	23. ATREUS

**ACT I SCENE XXIII**  
 **ATREUS**

* * *

 **SHE MANAGED TO DART** around the corner just in time as someone wrenched the door open. The boys exited the room and headed back to their respective jobs while complaining loudly about how the Gathering had been a waste of their time. Cassandra was just about to take a peek to see if the coast was clear when Minho's face came out of nowhere, causing her to yell out in surprise and jump backwards. Tripping over her own feet, she landed on the ground with a loud thump.

"Hello to you too," the Runner grinned crookedly.

Cassandra groaned in reply as she picked herself off the ground. Minho stepped forwards to help her up and she dusted the dirt off her pants as she looked around. The Gathering room was left empty and she couldn't see the other boys nearby. She turned to Minho.

"How did you know I was hiding here?" she frowned.

"I could hear your heart beating from a mile away," he said slyly.

She rolled her eyes at him and the boy snickered. He gestured for her to follow him and they walked along the length of the Homestead, towards the North Wall. She could see Alby, Nick and Newt bending over a rudimentary structure behind some bushes. As they came closer, she saw Gally's face looking out of a barred door from some kind of underground cellar.

"-couple of days oughta give ya some time to think," Newt was saying.

"I'm not changing my mind no matter what any of you say," Gally retorted. "I know what I saw. _You_ know what I mean."

He turned to look at Nick. The older boy merely stared back owlishly and shrugged his shoulders.

"Can't say I've met a lot of Grievers who didn't want me dead."

Gally shook his head and muttered a few choice words at them. Minho crossed his arms as he stood in front of the Slammer with the others and exchanged a look with Newt. It was like they were almost telepathic with the way they communicated silently with each other.

"At least the Changing didn't drive him insane," Cassandra heard herself say before she could stop herself.

They turned around to look at her in unison.

"I don't think he was very sane to begin with, Cassie," Minho guffawed.

"You know what I mean," she frowned at them. "I believe him."

"Why am I not surprised?" Alby said impassively.

"What do you mean?" Newt asked her.

Cassandra took a deep breath and looked at the North Door in the distance. A sense of urgency rooted deeply in her chest as she thought about the Maze and anxiety bubbled in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know how or why, but the need for her to go back out there almost overwhelmed her. If she could, she would have started running and never stop until she found a way out.

"Whatever happens here," she started. "It doesn't happen without a reason."

"You mean it was planned?"

"Yeah," she nodded her head and looked back at them. "I think it was a warning."

"For what?" Minho asked, sounding confused and impatient.

"That things are going to change."

* * *

Minho hovered over her shoulder as she lifted the lid of the freezer up. She moved the frozen slabs of meat away and reached down for her jar. The little beetle blade trapped inside was finally dead but she still shook it to make sure, and it rattled noisily against its glass prison.

"Nasty," Minho commented next to her ear.

She turned to look at him, finding his face just an inch away from hers. His chin was almost resting on her shoulder with an expression of utter revulsion on his face that made her want to laugh. She scrunched her face up at him.

"Uh, Minho? Have you heard about a thing called personal space?" she asked.

"What's that?" he asked back, looking at her weirdly but broke into a wide grin seconds later.

She inhaled deeply and tried her best to look angry with him but it was impossible when he looked at her like that. He took a step backwards nonetheless, still grinning, then nodded towards the jar.

"What are you gonna do with it now?" he asked.

"I'm gonna break it," she shook it again to make her point. "But uh, I don't think I wanna touch it. It's really gross."

"So how are you gonna break it open?" he frowned dubiously. "And does it really help to put it in the freezer?"

"Maybe. I don't know," Cassandra adjusted her fingers on the cold glass. "I just wanted to kill the battery. But I know a way that'll definitely break it into pieces."

"What's that?"

She grinned at him and took his arm. He followed her out of the Homestead and across the Glade towards the North Door again. Her fingers were already numb from holding the frozen jar. She really hoped this would work, and then shook her head. She _knew_ it was going to work. What she really hoped for was that something useful would come out of it. Cassandra stopped in front of the still gaping walls of the Glade and Minho bumped into her from behind.

"What are you doing? The Doors are almost closing," he told her.

"I know."

As if on cue, there was a deep rumble and the familiar heavy grinding of stone against stone. Cassandra hurriedly placed the jar inside the closing gap of the Door and stood back. She bumped into Minho again as she did so and he held her in place. The metal rods found their homes in the matching holes opposite them with a squealing sound.

They watched as the large stone wall came together, catching the jar in its middle. For a split second, she saw the beetle blade twitch. Its red beam blinked back to life and its thin legs started scratching around the inside of the jar. She grabbed Minho's hand in surprise and then it was gone, swallowed up by the stone with a loud crunch.

"That was weird," Minho said quietly.

Cassandra rubbed her eyes with a hand and sighed heavily. She let her hand fall back to her side limply and drooped her shoulders.

"Hey, you okay?"

"I guess I'm just tired," she said after a pause.

"Newt told me you woke up screaming this morning," he said then added almost apologetically. "I was in the Map Room."

"It was nothing," she told him. "Just a nightmare."

"Hey," he turned her around to face him properly. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

She shook her head as she looked up into his eyes that were filled with concern for her. The only thing she wanted was to forget about everything, wishing that the memories would just stop coming back. Why could't she be like every other Glader, completely oblivious of their past? They didn't have nightmares of deranged creatures that looked like people or mad scientists cutting into their brains. She looked at Minho and thought about how lucky he was. It just felt like a huge and heavy burden that she had to carry around with her all the time.

"Cassie," he touched her cheek. "It's okay."

"It feels like..." her voice faltered and she had to stop to recollect herself. "It feels like time is running out."

"Well, that sounds completely ominous."

She stepped away from him and hugged herself. In the distance, she could see the Gladers packing up for the evening as usual. The Slammer looked as cold and empty as ever even though she knew Gally was sitting inside. She looked at Minho again, her entire being radiating apprehension, wishing that he could just take her in his arms and chase the worry away.

"I believe you, Cassie," he tried to reassure her. "Come on, let's head back. We'll check on this little bugger again in the morning."

She nodded mutely and let him lead her back to the Homestead. It was full of boys chattering loudly amongst one another, the kitchen was completely abuzz with the mash of voices in the air. They were all talking about Gally. She figured this happened whenever she did something out of the ordinary as well. It felt strange to her, like she was just an observer on everything- on the outside looking in. They grabbed dinner and sat at a bench outside with Newt and Winston.

"Why do you think he did it, Cassandra?"

She looked up from her shepherd's pie and stared at Winston in surprise. He looked expectantly at her for an answer and she swallowed slowly, looking around the table with uncertainty. Cassandra lowered her fork back down to her plate.

"You mean Gally?" she asked back.

He nodded. Minho and Newt watched their exchange silently from the side.

"Why do _you_ think he did it, Winston?"

"Attention," he simply said. "He's always been begging for attention the moment he came out of that Box. Probably thought running into the Maze would prove he was special or something."

"That's not a very nice thing to say," she frowned disapprovingly.

Winston merely shrugged and she looked at the other two boys who avoided eye contact with her. Newt was examining a scratch on the table and Minho thought his food was the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his entire life. She had a feeling that they both agreed with Winston and it made her uneasy.

"So you all think he was making it up?" she asked them. "That there wasn't a Griever?"

"We think..." Newt said carefully. "That he might not really be telling us what he should be telling us."

"You mean to say," she looked at him, not in the mood to beat around the bush. "That he's lying."

"Well, if you have to put it like that, Cass."

Cassandra paused for a beat. "Does that mean you don't believe me either?"

"No, we believe you," Minho finally interjected. "We just don't think we can believe Gally."

She gave him a look and he sighed in resignation.

"I was there when he ran into the Maze," he told her. "I didn't see any sign of a Griever."

Her lips twitched downwards and they silently agreed to let the subject drop. Cassandra left the comfort of her room that night and moved back to sleep outside with the others. She turned fitfully on her hammock, constantly aware of the snores and tiny noises the boys around her made.

Her mind kept thinking about Gally and the Griever, about Nick and his obsession with escaping the Maze. She contemplated everything that had happened and tried to piece it all together, only falling asleep from exhaustion a couple of hours before wake-up.

Minho was shaking her and it took her a considerable amount of effort to open her eyes, then he went to wake Newt up next. The three of them made their way towards the North Door, passing by Gally's cell. It looked dark and empty from outside, the still dawn making it rather forlorn. They stood there sleepily for a few minutes before the Doors started opening. Cassandra went forwards anxiously to take a look at the fruits of her butchery.

The beetle blade had definitely been crushed to pieces, lying amongst the shards of glass from the jar and covered in disgusting thick black goo. Minho and Newt came closer as she sifted through the remains, looking for a clue. Something. Anything.

Curiously, she found organic material inside, almost like it had been grown. Then she picked up a small black box from its crushed head and examined it. Her finger pressed down on a rectangular slot in its middle and a microchip popped out. She pocketed it, hoping there might be some use to it later on. Other than that, there was nothing else that looked of value. She swept the remnants away with her foot, hiding them underneath the ivy just outside the Door.

"That was a complete waste of time," Newt yawned loudly and headed straight back to the Homestead.

"Cassie," Minho called her.

She turned to look at him questioningly. He hopped in place a little before taking a stance next to her and she grinned widely before copying his form. She could already feel her blood starting to quicken as Minho looked at her with a mischievous grin of his own.

"Ready... Set..."

"Go!" she exclaimed and sped off.

Minho yelled behind her for cheating but he was at her side a moment later. They zoomed past Newt who shouted at them. The Gladers who had just woken up watched them sprinting in their direction with utter confusion, some even panicked and started scrambling to get up from the ground. Cassandra glanced at Minho and couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling out of her even though it slowed her down a little.

"Oh, shuck! Look out!" Minho suddenly cried just as Frypan appeared in the kitchen's doorway to announce that breakfast was ready.

The Cook looked at them in shock before managing to step aside. Minho skidded to a sudden stop inside the kitchen, then Cassandra barrelled into his back and sent the both of them crashing to the floor. They knocked a chair over and it clattered loudly against the floor.

"What the shuck was that about?!" Frypan yelled angrily at them.

Minho sat up and grinned broadly. She knew instantly what he was going to say before he even said it.

"Got my running buddy back!"


	24. SINON

**ACT I SCENE XXIV  
SINON**

* * *

 **SHE POKED MINHO AWAKE** that morning, a first in the history of firsts. Usually, he'd have to try every method imaginable to get her to wake up- bribing, poking, yelling, tickling, you name it. He blinked at her blearily before rolling over and stretching loudly. A few Gladers muttered angrily around them and she grinned widely.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he turned to her.

Snickering in amusement, she brought her hands from behind her back and held up the enormous sunflower she had picked. His eyes widened and his face twisted into a horrified expression.

"Holy shuck, what is that monstrosity?" he asked.

"It's a sunflower!" she exclaimed. "The first one I harvested, and it's for you."

"Uh, thanks..." he plucked it from her hand and stared at it wordlessly. "I guess it looks really cheery."

"You're welcome," she stood up and gathered the dozen more stalks on the ground. Minho started when he saw them.

"Holy crap," he cried out. "It's an army!"

Cassandra giggled at his reaction. "To protect all the bacon from you."

She left him to arrange the flowers in a jar and left them on the kitchen counter for everyone to see. Zart was smiling smugly to himself when he sat down in front of it. When some of the other boys commented on how ugly they were, he'd growl at them menacingly. Cassandra went to add a few more jars of daisies around the room and those were received much more warmly.

Two more things happened that day. First, Cassandra had finally explored each sector of the Maze in the past month since she started running again. They still hadn't found anything useful but she felt that they were close. She could see the patterns in the Maze walls now, but she still couldn't figure out what to make of them.

Nick started running on his own again ever since he got stung. Before that, he'd been following Minho or Ben. He said he hadn't trusted himself to get back to the Glade on time and that he didn't fancy being caught by a Griever again.

The second was the newest addition to their community. The Box had come up with a new little Greenie. Literally little. Cassandra only met him after Newt brought him along for dinner. The boy was pudgy with brown hair and blue eyes. He had to be about twelve or thirteen, the youngest in the Glade by far. His name was Chuck and he gaped at her when he saw her.

"She's a girl!" he pointed, looking to Newt as if for confirmation.

The older boy rolled his eyes and nodded with strained patience.

"Yes, Chucky, she's a girl. Excellent observational skills."

"Look at the little runt," Minho laughed. "Dude, the Creators have lost their minds. He's a Slopper!"

"He's so young..." Cassandra murmured, frowning deeply.

It disturbed her so profoundly. Minho was already starting to tease the poor kid. She just wanted to protect him. He wasn't supposed to be here. This was wrong.

"But she's the only girl, right?" Chuck asked again.

"You're a right little detective, aren'tcha?" Newt retorted.

"Why is she the only girl?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

Cassandra shot the blonde a look and he sighed.

"We don't know why she's the only girl," he corrected himself. "But she's different from the rest of us, she can remember things."

"Whoa!" the boy exclaimed. "Seriously?! What do you remember?"

"Nothing good," she said dismissively. "You don't seem all that scared being here."

"Oh, believe me, he was," Newt scoffed. "It took us half an hour to coax him out of the Box. Definitely a new record."

Chuck looked down in embarrassment and Cassandra instantly regretted having said anything at all. She tried to console him by telling him that loads of Greenies were scared when they first came out of the Box. He gave her a small grateful smile for that. After dinner, she made sure Chuck had somewhere to sleep and gave him the extra clothes that came up with him from the Box.

"Hey, Cassie. You gonna kiss him good night or what?" Minho smirked in amusement.

She sighed in exasperation but let him pull her away nevertheless. They slept on the grass that night because it was cooler. Minho talked to her about the Maze patterns. He told her that he'd found a spot in each sector that never changed and he wanted to start checking them out the next day. She listened to him chatting away until he fell asleep.

She was lying there with her eyes closed, hoping to drift off at any moment, when she heard someone pass by her. Cassandra opened her eyes and saw Nick's back walking away from her. He was clearly headed in the direction of the Map Room again and she pushed herself up on her elbows. The favour he asked of her rang throughout her mind and she bit her lip as she looked around for Newt or Alby, hoping that one of them might have noticed. The Glade remained still and nobody else stirred around her.

Sighing in resignation, she pushed herself onto her feet and went after the boy. She turned the handle of the room and pulled it open. Nick looked up in surprise. When he saw her, he scratched his cheek bashfully.

"You guys are too good," he laughed. "Yesterday it was Newt. When I manage to get past him or Alby, it's you."

"What are you doing?" she asked him, stepping inside and closing the door.

"What do you think?" he looked around the table. There were piles of maps littered across it. "I'm trying to find a way out."

She told him what Minho had found and he examined the maps closely. After a while he nodded in agreement, pointing the spots out to her and said he would help with that. Cassandra paced the opposite side of the table, pretending to look at the maps. In all honesty, she had no idea what she was supposed to do. Was she supposed to watch him or try to persuade him to go back to sleep?

"If only we could find a hint," he said in frustration. "Just even a tiny one."

He slammed his fists on the tabletop, startling her. She watched him carefully but his face remained calm. Cassandra took a step closer and touched his shoulder.

"Hey," she tried to say soothingly. "Relax. It'll be fine. We'll find a way out and-"

"And what?" he asked. "What's gonna happen to us when we get out?"

"Maybe they'll throw us a huge party. We'll eat cake and pizza," she said dryly.

He managed a small chuckle at that.

"What do we do?" he looked at her as if she had the answer.

"We do what we have to do," she shrugged. "What we've always done. Survive."

He closed his eyes and nodded his head. She found herself starting to worry for the boy. After a bit of coaxing, he finally relented to heading back to get some sleep. Cassandra took a step towards the door when her entire body froze and she fell to the ground.

Nick was at her side in a flash, calling her name in concern. He picked her up from the floor and propped her up against the nearby wall. She took deep laborious breaths, eyes glazed over staring into space.

"They won't make it," her voice shook with fear. "They won't make it. The hole. It's the only way out. It's the only way out, we need to..."

Her eyelids fluttered close and her breathing started to even out again. A moment later, Cassandra regained consciousness and she looked up to find Nick watching her silently, his face drawn. She shifted uneasily.

"What... happened?" she asked.

"Nothing," he shook his head slowly. "You just fainted."

"Really?" she narrowed her eyes dubiously.

"Yeah," he stood up and held out his hand for her.

She took it and hoisted herself up onto her feet. Cassandra frowned as looked around the room suspiciously. Something didn't feel right but before she could ask anything else, Nick was already walking through the door. She hurried after him.

"I think I'll go through the West Door tomorrow," he told her. "You and Minho can take the North Door. The day after, I'll take East and you'll take South. We'll cover more ground that way."

"Um... okay," she replied. "Nick, are you sure-"

"By the way," he stopped and turned to her. "Thank you."

She blinked blankly at him. "Uh... why?"

"For everything."

He gave her a small smile before heading back to the Homestead and disappeared behind a canvas flap where the hammocks were strung up. Cassandra stood there with a sense of foreboding. She had no idea what had just happened.

* * *

When she woke up the next morning, there was a dull ache in her head. She had a hard time remembering what had transpired the night before. Turning on her side, she found Minho still sound asleep and nestled against the crook of her arm with a smile.

Seeing Minho always made her feel relief. He was like her cure or an anaesthetic, making her worries melt away. She could hear some of the others rustling about, getting ready for the day. Soon, Alby would be yelling at the heavy sleepers to wake up like he always did. Life in the Maze was so routine; everything that happened here was like a well-rehearsed choreography. Then she heard Minho's smooth smug voice.

"How long are you gonna watch me for?"

He slowly turned his head to look at her with a wide smirk plastered on his face. She scrunched up her nose at him but she was too transparent and couldn't help grinning back at him a second later.

"Come on, get up!" she smacked his arm and sat up herself.

They went through their morning ritual and headed for the North Door. She clued Minho in on her conversation with Nick the previous night. As they paused by the Door, Chuck suddenly ran up to them. He bent over to take in large breaths of air and Minho gave her a look.

"What are you doing? Why are you going in there?" Chuck asked. "Newt told me we weren't allowed to go in!"

"Damn," Minho said. "Nick's supposed to be giving him the Tour. Where is he?"

"D'yu think he's already left?" she looked around the Glade. "Chuck, you need to go back to Newt and just wait there. Someone'll explain everything to you, okay?"

"But why are you going inside?" he asked persistently.

"Look here, tiny shank, we ain't got the time to babysit you," Minho said impatiently. "So just listen to the pretty lady and head back home."

"O-okay then..." Chuck mumbled.

He stood there awkwardly under their scrutiny before turning around and walking back to the Homestead. They watched him make his way across the Glade without any incident, then Cassandra turned to Minho with a serious expression on her face. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You think I'm pretty?" she giggled.

He rolled his eyes at her, turned around and started jogging into the Maze.

"Yeah, you're like a sunflower!" he called over his shoulder.

She ran after him, laughing lightly.


	25. HELENES

**ACT I SCENE XXV  
HELENES**

* * *

 **THEY STARTED WITH THE FIRST SECTOR.** It was like a breath of fresh air. Her body loosened up, the tenseness in her shoulders melting away to raw muscle memory. She followed Minho closely, not wanting a repeat of that last time when she was in the Maze.

A couple of hours later, they entered the outer section of Sector One. Minho slowed to a stop in front of her and announced that it was time for a water break. Cassandra immediately slumped down against a wall and rummaged through her pack.

"I was thinking while running," Minho started. "Why were you talking with Nick last night?"

"You jealous?" she asked him slyly.

"Cassie..."

She laughed at his expense before explaining from the beginning; about the favour Nick asked from her, his obsessive concern with escaping the Maze and his ever-decreasing sanity. Even though he looked calm on the outside most of the time, she could see there was something off about him. It was the way he fidgeted constantly, like he was always anxious for something to happen. And when he talked about the world outside, there was a spark of terror in his eyes. It got worse by the day.

"He asked something similar from me too," Minho told her. "Told me to take care of 'em. Make sure they were safe. That _we're_ safe."

Cassandra ate her apple in silent contemplation. She didn't think she'd ever say it out loud but she didn't want anything to happen to Nick. He kept telling them that he was going crazy, yet he was the most rational person in the entire Glade. She wasn't sure how they would manage without his level headedness and sheer determination. It was hard to admit but she kind of looked up to the boy. He never gave up on them or himself.

Minho broke her out of her reverie and they continued on their way to the outer section. She took note of every turn they made and each corridor they ran down. It felt like they were going in a large spiral, towards the very middle of the section.

A few more hours passed as they ran their hands along the walls of the Maze. She kept her eyes and ears peeled for any unwanted visitors. Minho turned around a corner and stopped. Cassandra stepped up next to him and surveyed the dead end in front of them.

Thick overhanging ivy covered the entire opposite wall. She glanced at Minho and they walked over to hack at the vines with their knives. A few minutes later, they crouched down to find a small hole at the bottom. It was too dark to see what was inside. The hole was just big enough for a person to crawl into and hide.

Her heart skipped a beat as Minho reached his arm inside. He paused as his hand managed to grab hold of something and started yanking it out. It was an old blood stained pack. He stuck his arm back inside and pulled out a brittle yellowing femur.

Cassandra had to squeeze her hands against her mouth to stop herself from crying out. Minho hissed a few choice phrases and threw the bone back into the hole.

"Shucking shuck of all the shucks I have ever shucked!"

She looked at him with wide horrified eyes then slowly lowered her hand from her mouth.

"Did you know him?" she whispered loudly.

Minho grabbed the old pack and rummaged through it. He threw out a few decomposed apple cores and soiled clothes. There was a piece of paper inside. It only said two words, written with dried blood in thick blocky capitals.

THEY'RE COMING.

"I think it was Carl..."

"Who was Carl?" she looked at him and saw his face grow grim.

"He was one of us in the first batch," he told her quietly. "It was... a really bad time. When we still couldn't figure out what to do with ourselves. Carl got into a fight with another kid, Ernie, and killed the poor shank. We threw Carl out into the Maze."

She stared at him speechlessly, not knowing whether she should feel sorry for this boy or glad that he met a horrible death with what he had done. Minho stood up, picking the pack up and slinging it over his shoulder. He cocked his head sideways.

"Let's head back. I've seen enough."

She nodded and straightened her legs to stand. They ran back, retracing their steps and thought about how there were eight sectors in the Maze. There were seven more potential hiding holes. Could there be seven more potential graves too?

"How many people have been thrown into the Maze?" she asked, running in pace with Minho.

He looked at her with disconcertion in his eyes, eyebrows pulled together as he frowned in thought.

"Too many."

"Do you think... maybe..."

"Yeah, it's a possibility," he breathed. "There might be a few more."

She hated the thought of uncovering more skeletons. But there were seven more sectors and one of them could point them in the direction of an actual clue. She still had to hold out on that hope.

They continued running in silence, taking a couple of water breaks in between. The light had just started to dim when they made it back through the Doors. They stopped at a patch of grass and bent over to catch their breaths.

She looked around the Glade and felt that something was off. It was emptier than usual. The Trackhoes weren't in the Gardens and the Builders were nowhere to be seen. She stood up and looked around again, then noticed the crowd of boys gathered in the middle of the Glade. Minho followed her gaze and frowned in confusion. The Box shouldn't be up again for another week.

"What are they doing?" he wondered out loud.

"Let's find out," she shrugged and they made their way over to the others.

She saw Newt and immediately went towards him, hoping to get some information on what they had missed out on. By the look on the blonde's face, it wasn't anything good.

Nick had managed to persuade some of the boys to make the longest rope they had ever made and to lower him into the Box's hole. Cassandra couldn't believe what she was hearing. She rushed forwards to the hole and peered inside. Gally and Zart held onto the rope that was Nick's only lifeline. It was so dark inside the chasm, she couldn't see how far the boy had already gone down.

"Nick?!" she yelled inside. "What the hell are you doing?! Get back up here, this is insane!"

"Yeah, we've tried that, he's not giving up," Newt came up behind her.

"If you don't come back this instant, I'm going to kill you! Literally!" she yelled again.

She heard a chuckle echo up from deep below the hole and felt a small comfort at that.

"Hey, you dumb shank! What do you see?" Minho called.

"What d'yu think, klunkhead?" Nick replied.

"He didn't bring a light with him?" Cassandra asked incredulously.

"The battery ran out," Newt rolled his eyes. "We tried throwing another one in but it hit him on the head and fell to the bottom."

"You do realise that it'll take him hours to reach the bottom at the rate he's going?" she asked then turned back to the hole and loudly repeated herself.

Another chuckle bounced up and she crossed her arms in exasperation. Even if he did reach the bottom, she highly doubted it would lead to a way out. She was certain that the people down there had the place locked up and they'd have to pull him out again anyway.

Several more minutes passed by as everyone waited with bated breath. There was a loud thunk that echoed up and Nick cried out in surprise.

"What happened?!" Newt leaned over the hole, trying in vain to peek through the darkness.

"Felt something above my head," they heard Nick say. "That was weird. Oh, sh-"

There was another loud thunk that sounded more metallic this time.

"PULL ME UP! PULL ME UP NOW!"

Cassandra dropped to the ground and leaned forwards anxiously. Newt was shouting at the other boys to help tug on the rope. She grabbed hold of it as well and pulled as hard as she could. Nick started screaming again.

"HURRY UP! HUR-"

His voice was abruptly cut off. Cassandra felt her heart hammering in her chest, beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and into her eyes. She continued to tug frantically, ignoring the burns that were starting to sting.

Finally, she saw the crown of his head and the mess of dark hair. She reached down to pull on his shirt and instantly felt that something was terribly wrong. Grabbing hold of his arm, she yanked him out of the hole. His torso came up over the edge and she dragged him across the ground.

But that was all of him.

The lower half of his body was gone.

Cassandra fell backwards and scrambled away. Everyone else stopped moving as if reality had imploded and they were all frozen still in place. Then she sucked in a deep breath and screamed.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE** :

This chapter made me so sad, I really loved Nick :( xx


	26. CREUSA

**ACT I SCENE XXVI  
CREUSA**

* * *

 **LOG 731: TE**

Vitals are stable. This will be my last log entry. Ever. Tomorrow they're going to install the Swype into my cerebral cortex. I'll forget everything, who I was and what I've been through. Then I'll join the others in the Trials. It's been a long time coming and I think I'm prepared. Teresa will join me the next day and trigger the Ending.

I only hope that it'll be worth it. Watching them down there, all their struggles... sometimes it gets too much. They have no idea that everything has been calculated to manipulate them into giving us the results that we need. And the results have been good so far. I just wished people didn't have to die in the process.

Years ago, these experiments would never have seen the light of day. It'd be too unethical. The Board, whatever the Board used to be, would never have even considered the notion. Now desperation fuels our every intention.

To think that I'll be joining them soon. How can I possibly justify the things we've done anymore when I'll be one of them? Are we really doing the right thing?...

[Draft deleted]

* * *

Cassandra stared at her hands as hot wet tears dripped down onto the floor. Her fingers were covered in angry red abrasions from the rope. She had tried bandaging them up but her hands were shaking too much so she threw the medical supplies across the room in a fit of rage. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks and sting her wounds as she buried her face in her hands.

She couldn't remember much after she had pulled Nick out of the Box hole. It was all a blur, and she was still hoping that it was just a cruel dream she was having. Alby had started shouting at her. He probably would have kicked her across the ground if Minho and Gally hadn't restrained him.

Apparently it was her fault that Nick had gone down the hole in the first place. He'd told Alby that she gave him the idea. She remembered no such thing, however. Unless... she had said something along those lines when she 'fainted' the night before in the Map Room. She thought it was strange when Nick told her nothing had happened.

Damn. It was her fault.

A knock on the door startled her and Cassandra looked up to find Chuck peeking through the gap. He opened the door wide enough for him to slip inside then left it ajar behind him.

"Minho sent me up to check on you," he said innocently. "He said you have a soft spot for pudgy faced kids like me and asked you to take a good look at my face."

The boy stopped in front of her and stuck his face out. He beamed brightly and turned his head from side to side with raised eyebrows.

"Does that help?" he asked.

She couldn't help but crack a smile at him and leaned over to pat the boy's mess of curly hair.

"That's cute," she chuckled.

"So are you okay?" he looked at her with his wide baby blue eyes.

"I just pulled someone out of a hole after he got cut in half," she deadpanned. "I've never felt better."

"Hear that, Minho?" Chuck raised his voice and turned around.

Cassandra looked at the door in surprise. It creaked open to reveal the Runner eavesdropping on them and she breathed out an almost imperceptible sigh.

"Greenie, you suck," Minho enunciated each word, voice loaded with annoyance.

The young boy shrugged his round shoulders and grinned. Minho jabbed his thumb over his shoulder and told the kid to get lost. Chuck quickly made his exit and closed the door properly this time. She looked away from Minho, pretending to busy herself with arranging the medical supplies. He picked up the bandages and scissors off the floor then took a step closer to her. His hand grasped hers gently and she froze in her seat. He turned her hand around, palm facing upwards and ran his fingers across the burn marks.

"Have you put medicine yet?" he asked softly.

She nodded her head and he let go of her hand. He unfurled the roll of bandages and carefully started wrapping her fingers with them. Cassandra watched him numbly and neither of them knew what to say to the other. The silence was unbearable so she broke it first.

"I didn't know," her voice came out shakier than she wanted it to.

"It's not your fault," he told her.

"It might as well have been!" she hissed.

"None of us would have thought they'd slice anyone in half."

"It should have been me..." she whispered quietly but Minho caught it.

"Hey!" he said sharply. "Don't you ever say something like that again. You hear me? Don't say that. Cassie? Look at me."

She hesitantly turned to look up at him and there was pain in his eyes. Her gaze dropped back down and she nodded once while muttering an apology. He went back to bandaging her fingers and they settled back into that unbearable quiet.

As soon as he was done, she threw her arms around his neck. It caught him by surprise and he almost tripped backwards. Her shoulders shuddered from the effort of keeping her sobs at bay. She wanted him to take the guilt away.

Minho wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back. He hushed her and she felt his breath tickle her ear. She started to relax again as his hand stroked her hair comfortingly. After a long moment, she recollected herself and pulled away from him. She murmured another apology but he shook his head, brushing a thumb across her cheek.

"Feeling better?" he gave her that saucy smirk of his.

"Yeah," she smiled gratefully back.

"Good that."

He took her hand and led her out of the room. The Glade was abuzz with the recent event that took place. Many of the boys had dispersed, gathering in groups around and inside the Homestead.

The sky above them was already starting to darken into a flat purplish hue. Only the Keepers remained in the middle of the open field, gathered in a small circle near the Box when Minho and Cassandra joined them. Alby and Jackson weren't there, which was a small comfort. Everyone wore expressions of solemnity and she was afraid to ask the one question she was itching to ask.

"This isn't exactly the first time something like this has happened," Newt said. "Reckon we should make a warning to the others."

"What kind of warning?" Winston asked.

"How about something like 'don't be a shucking idiot and jump into places you don't know about'?" Gally suggested.

"That's ironic coming from you," Frypan snorted.

"Shut your face."

"It's never been as nasty as this though," Winston said. "At least we never actually saw the bodies."

Cassandra had no idea what they were referring to but she was positively sure that she didn't want to know. It felt strange to come to terms with the death of someone she had known- a kind of hollow feeling. Never being able to see Nick walking around the Glade anymore. Even if he did creep her out sometimes and acted like a complete sloth most of the time, he always knew exactly what he was doing. There was a surety about him, like how Minho never hesitated to take the first step or how Newt always knew the right things to say. The Gladers sorely needed people like that.

"He only ever wanted to find a way out for us," she said aloud without realising. "That's all he ever thought about."

The boys looked at her and there was a hint of guilt in their eyes. Newt squeezed her shoulder from the side with an empathetic expression and she looked at him.

"We know, Cass," he told her gently. "He was always so bloody persistent about it."

"Always knew it'd be the death of him," Minho said from her other side.

They decided to go with Gally's suggestion of putting a see-through glass pane over Nick's grave and write a sign warning others not to do what he did. Cassandra didn't really approve of it but it was a majority vote, which she never actually had any part in.

She did join them for the 'funeral' the next day and forced herself to look at the boy's slowly decomposing body. Someone had mercifully covered the part that had been severed. She didn't think she would be able to handle that and was sure that she would have lost her entire stomach into the bushes. Nick had lost his glasses somewhere deep in the Box hole and he looked naked without it.

It was difficult for her to explain the empty feeling in her chest but if she were to hazard a guess, it must be how grief felt like. A deep aching pit inside of her that went on for miles and miles. She had finally accepted Nick as a friend and now he was dead. He was the only other person that could even begin to understand the weird occurrences that happened to her.

She never had the opportunity to ask him things that normal friends would ask or what he remembered from his life before the Glade. Nobody seemed to know. The only thing he ever talked about was the Maze and how to get out. She thought bitterly of how it was one of the many things that WICKED had stolen from them.

Then she wondered how she would react when someone closer to her died. Someone like Minho or Newt. If she felt this way for Nick, she was almost certain that it would be a hundred times worse with those two. She didn't think she'd be able to continue living as a normal functioning human being. It would be like having an organ ripped out of her.

When the Keepers and the Baggers left, she stayed behind. She couldn't get over how they decided to put a glass window over his grave for people to look into. Then again, it suited him. He'd probably have thought that it was a brilliant idea. Anything to help keep the Gladers safe, even in death.

A few other boys came by to pay their respects and it shouldn't have surprised her but it did. He was, after all, their bonafide leader. She went back to the Homestead when she was done moping around. It was almost mid afternoon and time for lunch anyway.

All of the Runners had taken the day off to attend Nick's burial, something to do with being comrades in arms. Minho sat at a long bench with the whole lot of them and it was strange to see them all together during the daytime. It was the rarest sight in the Glade. Even by dinner, half of them were too exhausted to get their butts to the kitchen. Minho caught sight of her and waved her over. Newt was there too even though he hadn't entered the Maze for a very long time.

"Hey, here's our entire team!" Ben commented. "We should make a toast. It's literally the first time we've all sat together in forever."

There was a round of agreement, then Ben and Lee went to fetch some glasses and two large jars of Gally's recipe. In her entire time in the Glade, she has never once seen Gally actually brewing anything. She really wondered where they all came from.

They started pouring a glass for everyone and passed them around the table. Ben held up his glass and suggested everyone take a turn to toast. He went first and toasted to a fine afternoon with friends. Lee toasted to their toast, which brought a ripple of laughter around the table. Some of them opted to pass or else agreed to someone else's toast. Newt toasted to better days ahead and it was suddenly Cassandra's turn. She couldn't think of anything to say so she merely raised her glass and said, "To Nick."

There was a chorus of yips as they drank to that. Minho was the last to toast, of course. He stood up with great dramatic flair and raised his glass high in the air. The Runners cheered for their Keeper and the boy grinned widely as he basked in the attention. He looked at Cassandra to wink mischievously and she couldn't help rolling her eyes at him.

"A toast to us shanks who don't know when to give up," he started. "To those slintheads who work the fields day in and day out while we play hopscotch and tag with them beasties outside. And to those shuckfaces who look out for us."

There was a wild frenzy of cheers as the Runners drummed the table and yelled excitedly. Minho held a hand up to show that he wasn't done and Newt told him to shucking drink already.

"Hold up!" the Keeper said, raising his glass again. "Last but not least, to those idiots who are always there for us. No questions asked. Those klunkheads we go to when we have a bad day or just need someone to lie down on. To those shucks that make this shucking place a place that we can call home."

Finally, Minho tipped his glass back and downed his drink in one go. The table erupted again into cheers as everyone drank up and started refilling their glasses. Cassandra caught Minho's eye and smiled. He took her hand under the table and gave it a small squeeze. She was never going to let him live this down.


	27. EUMELUS

**ACT I SCENE XXVII  
EUMELUS**

* * *

 **THAT EVENING** , Cassandra was hanging her clothes up to dry at the back of the Homestead when she heard sniffling. She paused and listened. It came from somewhere nearby. She followed the sounds until she came to the bushes near the Slammer.

There wasn't anyone around but the sniffling had gotten louder. She turned around and parted the bushes behind her. A mess of curly brown hair came up from the underbrush and Chuck looked up at her with wet tear-filled blue eyes. She immediately felt her heart melt and she dropped to the ground to crawl inside.

"Heey," she said soothingly. "What's wrong?"

"I-It's nothin'," he blubbered. "I just... just got a really bad tummy ache, is all. Probably ate too much chilli peppers or somethin'."

"Come on, Chuck, you know that's not gonna work on me," she told him.

The branches caught themselves on her clothes and hair whenever she tried to find a comfortable position to crouch in. She finally decided to just lie on her belly with her legs sticking out of the bush. Chuck hiccoughed slightly but had managed to stop the tears streaming down his face. He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt as Cassandra looked at him dolefully. He was just so young.

"Did someone bully you?" she asked.

"No- well, yeah... but I kinda expected it," he told her bashfully. "I'm the smallest here, even smaller than you."

She rolled her eyes but smiled. Chuck looked at her and shuffled on his butt, looking like he was itching to ask her things. She figured not many people were willing to talk to him about the going-ons of the Glade. If it was her, she'd probably be rampaging around the fields and demanding for answers. She reckoned she could take on a few of the boys on her own.

"You can chat with me if you're feeling lonely," she told him kindly.

"Really?" he perked up. "But you're like one of the cool kids."

She barked out a laugh at that. "Cool kids?! For once, I have absolutely no idea what that's supposed to mean."

"You know, like the popular ones," he said. "You're always hanging out with the top honchos. Minho and Newt. Minho's like a Keeper too, isn't he? That's so awesome!"

"Yeah, he's the Keeper of the Runners. Very important man. But don't say that out loud in front of him, his shucking ego is already big enough as is."

Chuck giggled at that and continued asking her more questions. She tried to fill him in on as much detail as she possibly could, thinking that the best thing she could do was to be honest with the little fella. He was positively harmless. And looking to be a Slopper. There was nothing she could really do about that even if she tried. The hard fact was that he just didn't make the cut for any of the jobs. Chuck finally ran out of things to ask her and they settled into a companionable silence, then he started fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"I know what might cheer you up," she said and reached into the pocket of her pants.

She took out her knife and the little figurine she had carved earlier that day. Cassandra thought she had gotten much better. The figurine in her hand was smooth and round with lines carved just deep enough to give it detail. Minho said it looked like a monkey but she insisted that it was a bear. She gave the two items to Chuck and he turned them over in his hands.

"You can ask Zart for little blocks of wood," she told him. "Don't be fooled by his mean and tough exterior, he's actually a ball of fluff. It was the only thing that kept me sane when they had me locked up in the room."

"So that was you!" he exclaimed. "Nobody wanted to tell me what happened to the room upstairs. They just shook their heads and sighed."

Cassandra snorted and laughed. Guess she had thoroughly left her mark on the place. Suddenly she felt a pair of hands grab hold of her ankles and yanked her out. She let out a little squeak before rolling onto her back and looked up to find Minho staring at her weirdly.

"What the shuck are you doing?" he asked slowly.

Chuck popped his head out of the top of the bush and greeted him. The Runner glanced at the boy then exchanged a look with Cassandra before placing a hand on his hip.

"Seriously," he deadpanned.

She pushed herself up to stand and dusted her clothes off.

"What?" she asked innocently. "I was just being there for the little guy. Shoulder to cry on. Someone to call home."

"Very funny," he rolled his eyes at her and her lips twitched in amusement. "Come on, it's bedtime. We got a big day tomorrow, Cassie. Lots of hidey holes to look into, possibly more skeletons to find."

"Skeletons?!" Chuck exclaimed.

"Oh, yeah, loads of 'em," Minho nodded solemnly. "Sometimes one of 'em gets up to haunt us."

"Really?!" he cried.

"So you better be a good boy and don't wander out of those walls."

Cassandra shook her head in disbelief but chose to remain silent. Even if a little misguided, Minho was just trying to warn him to stay safe. She bade Chuck good night and dragged Minho away before he could corrupt the child even further.

There was a nice cool breeze that night and most of them had opted to sleep on the hammocks. Cassandra was on the verge of falling asleep when she heard a voice calling her name. It was so soft that she had barely heard it the first time. She sat up and looked around in the near darkness.

All she could see were the silhouettes of the other boys in deep slumber, then she remembered the last time she heard voices in her head. It had been such a long time since then, she had almost forgotten all about it. But there was something different about this voice; it didn't sound malicious like the last time. It was so soft though, she couldn't make out what it was saying over the snores.

Burning with curiosity, she rolled off her hammock and walked to the middle of the Glade, stopping next to the Box. Cassandra rubbed her arms and wished she brought her blanket along. The voice had unfortunately stopped. She lowered herself to sit on the ground and leaned her back against the Box's holding structure. Feeling immensely stupid for even thinking about it, she looked up to the sky and tried to project out a little hello with her mind.

She wasn't entirely shocked when absolutely nothing happened. Sighing, she brought her knees up to her chin and stared out at the open field. It had been five months since she arrived in the Glade and so much had already happened. They were still desperately trying to find a way out and crack the patterns of the Maze, there must be something obvious that they were missing. She heaved another sigh and was just about to get up when she heard it.

" _Cassandra?"_

It was much more distinct this time, but still barely above a whisper. The voice felt familiar somehow though she still couldn't make out its gender. She tried projecting her voice mentally again and it took her a few tries before she heard a reply.

 _"Oh. Wow. I didn't think you'd be able to do it but I can hear you. Just barely."_

Her heart thumped in her chest and she inhaled sharply through her mouth. This was the weirdest thing she had ever done. She had no idea why she was being so calm about it. Feeling as if she was the silliest person on earth, she tried again. She asked who the voice was.

 _"I'm... well... we'll see each other soon enough,"_ it replied her mysteriously. _"I just wanted to check in on you. Your readings have been... off."_

She didn't like the sound of that but it did give her a small hint as to the voice's identity. Her head was starting to hurt from thinking so hard. She wanted to ask more questions but she was too tired for that. The voice seemed to have lost interest so she went back to the Homestead. She lied down on her hammock and stared up at the rusted metal sheet that constituted as their roof. It didn't occur to her until much later as she drifted off to sleep and the last thought that went through her head was; _what the shuck just happened?_

* * *

Weeks passed since the incident with the Box. There had been another Griever attack. This time it was Ben. All the Runners, including herself, were worried about the boy but life resumed as usual in the Glade as if nothing had happened. It never ceased to amaze her how much they were capable of accepting things and just moving on.

Minho and her had gone through the entire maze for all the hiding holes. They only found one other skeleton, three abandoned backpacks and a rusted blood encrusted knife. The dried blood was brown, which begged her to wonder what had happened to its original owner. Or rather, the body of its original owner.

There were notes in the last backpack. Most of it was illegible but they managed to make out a couple of pages. One of the boys had actually survived long enough to track the Grievers' movements. Minho guessed it was one of the Runners who didn't make it before the Doors closed. It was a shame that he was so close to surviving the night.

He noted down that he saw three Grievers heading towards the Cliff, jumped and disappeared. If things couldn't get any worse, there was a sharp piece of metal in the backpack that didn't look like it came from the Glade. It looked like the needle that the Grievers used to sting them with. Cassandra shuddered and dropped it back onto the table. Minho wrapped it up in a piece of cloth and placed it inside one of the chests.

They exited the map room and made their way to the Homestead. She was looking forward to digging into some of Frypan's casserole, puzzling over the maze always made her ravenous. That must be where all the Runners got their appetites from. There was a buzz of excited chatter around the kitchen and they figured right away that something had happened. Newt was there to tell them the news as usual. They marched up to his table and sat down with their dinners.

"What's the skinny, Newton?" she asked, acting all business-like.

"Well, my lovely Cass," Newt replied. "We have a strapping newcomer who looks like he has potential to be something useful. He's tall, he's fit and not too bad on the eyes if ya know what I mean."

She giggled and looked at him excitedly.

"Ooh, that does sound rather promising. Tell me more."

Minho rolled his eyes. "Cassie, your girl is showing."

She looked at him, eyes twinkling. "Jealous?"

"Cassie, everyone knows you only got eyes for me," he cocked an eyebrow and smirked arrogantly.

"Just to annoy our dear Minho further," she turned back to Newt. "Kindly point out this strapping young man that I am so eager to meet."

"Well, I actually don't know where he is right this moment," he looked around. "Last I saw of 'im, Alby pushed the wee little fat shank in his direction."

"Oh, it's easy to spot Chuck," she said, craning her head to look over the crowd. "He's the one always trying to squirrel away the food for later."

Just as she said it, the young boy came through the door. He was talking excitedly, which was a first, then an older boy stepped inside after him. He was just as Newt had described, with dark hair and eyes. Cassandra could have sworn that she felt time stopped as she zoned in on the newcomer.

She stood up from her sit so suddenly that her chair fell back to the floor with a loud clatter. The other boys around their table stopped talking to look at her. It was enough for Chuck and his new friend to notice them at the other end of the room. The young boy waved at her excitedly but she ignored him.

"You," she hissed venomously and started across the room. " **You!** "

"Oh, shuck..." she heard Gally say. "Someone stop her!"

But nobody moved. They were all transfixed on what she was planning to do next. She stormed towards the boy and felt the anger boiling inside her on the verge of exploding. The new kid stared at her approaching him in bewilderment. He pointed at himself and sputtered.

"M-me?"

Cassandra balled her hand into a fist and swung it back. She punched him hard. The boy's head snapped sideways and he fell backwards to the floor. Minho and Newt were on her in a heartbeat, grabbing her arms to restrain her. Chuck looked between her and the now unconscious boy on the floor.

"Why'd you do that, Cass?!" he asked her. "Why'd you punch Thomas?!"

"Cause it felt good," she spat and scowled deeply.

"That's my girl."


	28. PRIAM

**ACT I SCENE XXVIII  
** **PRIAM**

* * *

 **WHEN THOMAS CAME TO** , he found himself lying on a bed in one of the rooms upstairs. He blinked and felt his left temple throb with a dull ache. Then he remembered the crazy girl that punched the daylights out of him.

Chuck had said there was a girl that he could talk to. That she wouldn't mind giving him the answers he wanted.

Fat chance.

He looked about the dark room and felt around him for a light switch. He hoped there was a bedside lamp nearby. His hand managed to grab hold of something that felt like one and fumbled around for the switch. The light went on and he saw Cassandra sitting in a chair next to him. He swore out loud and started violently.

The girl sniffed with disapproval as her dark eyes bore holes into his face and Thomas stared back at her in disbelief.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he exclaimed.

* * *

Her eyes slid away from him and she scowled, muttering unintelligibly underneath her breath. After a long moment, she turned back to him indignantly.

"Alby made me stay here until you woke up to apologise," she told him sullenly.

There was another awkward pause as they stared at each other.

"I apologise."

Thomas opened his mouth then closed it again. Cassandra continued glowering at him, she didn't give a damn care in the world with the way she was acting. To her, it was justifiable. She knew the boy and what he did, even if he had seemingly forgotten. Maybe she could try beating it out of him. That would be great.

"Who are you?" he finally asked. "And what's your problem with me?"

She inhaled sharply, which made him withdraw instinctively, and pointed a finger at him before letting her hand drop back to her lap. Then she raised it again.

"You..." she started but she couldn't get the words out.

She had suddenly found herself tongue-tied and her temper flared up once again as she realised what was happening. They didn't want Thomas to know what had happened between the two of them in the past. The Creators, they probably did something to her so she wouldn't be able to say anything.

She growled angrily before storming out of the room and leaving the boy on his own. Her furious footsteps thudded heavily against the floorboards as she descended the stairs to find Newt waiting for her at the bottom. He looked at her and sighed.

"Minho and Gally filled me in," he told her. "But seriously, Cass? You do know that one of our rules is never to harm another Glader, right?"

"Are you going to punish me?" she asked with wide eyes.

"Nah," he shook his head. "If we punished every shank who made a scuffle, we wouldn't have enough Slammers to keep 'em all. But Thomas is a Glader now. He's one of us."

"Not for a shucking second," she hissed. "I'm not going to- especially when- _he's one of them!_ "

"But they sent him here," he said. "That means they don't want him anymore."

"What if it's a trick?" she questioned. "Maybe they sent him here to get us killed or something?"

"Cass, ya knocked him out with a bloody punch," he raised his eyebrows at her. "I think it's more likely that you're gonna kill him before he even decides to murder any of us in our sleep."

She paused and cocked her head slightly to the side, mouth twitching in agreement. He did have a point, she felt kind of good about that.

"I'm still keeping my eye on him," she said before heading outside.

Ben let out an agonising shriek from upstairs and she stopped to look back. Worry took hold of her and creased her face with deep lines. She looked up the stairs only to find Thomas on his way down. His eyes were wide with terror and he froze in place when he saw her. Cassandra tsked and turned back around to get away. She couldn't handle seeing his shuck face for another second.

Walking into the kitchen, she grabbed a glass to fill with water and drank it angrily. She'd been aching to drink the entire time she was waiting for that stupid boy to wake up. Thomas hadn't been out that long after she punched him, probably not more than thirty minutes. She started to stalk around the kitchen counters while fuming. That was how Minho found her after he spotted her and followed her inside.

"Cassie!" he went straight towards her and took hold of her arm. "Hey! You okay there?"

"No!" she cried out almost hysterically. "I am not okay! This is not okay!"

"Cassie, Cassie," he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her small frame. "Calm... down..."

She allowed herself to relax into his chest and listen to his heartbeat through the thin layer of cotton while taking in a deep breath. Once she had calmed down somewhat, Minho let her go and she leaned against the counter.

Her behaviour was probably irrational but she couldn't help it. All the memories and feelings from what little she remembered came flooding to the forefront of her mind whenever she looked at Thomas, and she remembered being so angry. Cassandra crossed her arms and looked at Minho.

"You think I'm overreacting too, don't you?" she asked accusatorially.

"I would never," he said with a mock gasp. "But come on, Cassie, look at the fella. He's almost as harmless as Chuck. I say almost only cause he's bigger."

She cracked a smile at that. Thomas did seem defenceless and completely confused out of his mind. Despite that, she didn't feel bad for what she did but maybe Minho and Newt were right. For the moment, with his memory wiped, he was one of them now. She hated the thought of that; she didn't want to have anything to do with him.

"Though I gotta admit, that throw was pretty shucking sweet," he grinned mischievously. "Always been telling them shanks not to mess with my Cassie."

She laughed and felt a warmth rise up to her cheeks. His Cassie. She liked the sound of that a lot.

"C'mon, let's get some rest," Minho cocked his head to the side. "Early morning worm and all that."

"Minho..." she called him as he made a move towards the door. "I'm going to stay in the Glade."

"Cassie..." he looked at her sternly.

"Just until I'm sure he's not planting bombs in the Homestead," she said quickly.

He sighed, knowing that it was futile to change her mind on the subject, then waved his hand for her to come along. She took that as permission enough and followed him outside. Thomas was nowhere to be seen out on the grass or the hammocks that night and she thought Chuck probably brought him to hide out at the back. She lied down next to Minho and closed her eyes as she tried to stop thinking. That ominous feeling she had when Gally was stung returned in full force.

Things were going to change.

* * *

The next day had started off normally. She had her morning shower, then breakfast with Minho and Newt before seeing Minho off to tell him not to have too much fun without her.

Cassandra felt another pang of loss as she counted their numbers. She headed in the direction of the Gardens, spying Alby bringing Thomas out of the kitchen for The Tour. Gally waved at her from his stack of supply boxes and she went over curiously.

She could guess what he had to say though. He patted the spot next to him on the box and she took a seat. Just as she was settling down, she spotted something at the bottom of the crate and leaned down to pick it up. It was Nick's glasses. Gally glanced at her as she stared at it, dumbfounded.

"Nice souvenir," he commented.

"Well, it's mine now," she said. "Always wanted one."

He grunted in reply. She remembered hating these glasses so much that she wanted to break them into little pieces. Cassandra didn't think she would ever be a sentimental person but this was the only proof that Nick had been a living breathing person that she used to know.

"It's him, isn't it? I recognise him," Gally told her. "He's bad news."

She had overheard the other boys talking about Gally greeting Thomas the day before. He claimed he was the real leader around here and to call him Captain Gally. He'd been on Thomas' case ever since he laid eyes on the shank. She hadn't seen Gally act that way before. Maybe it was because Nick had kept things in line, she wasn't sure, but things had certainly gotten stranger around the Glade.

"I'm certainly not ecstatic at seeing him," she replied.

"Hmph. Me neither," he responded. "What d'yu think is goin' on?"

"I think we're gonna get shucked pretty soon."

She stared off into the distance and as if on cue, the alarm for the Box started ringing. The sound startled everyone in the Glade and they looked around nervously. Cassandra was on her feet in a heartbeat and raced towards the Box hole. She had the worst feeling ever, it almost made her sick. Alby, Newt and the others met up with her half a moment later. She looked at Newt and exchanged a worried glance with him.

"This is bad, guys," she said. "This is really bad."

"Maybe they forgot to send something up," Winston said hopefully.

"Yeah, doubt that," Newt replied.

They waited around for the lift to arrive, then Thomas and Chuck made their way over to them to check out the commotion as well. After what almost felt like an eternity, there was a loud bang as the lift reached the end of the shaft. Alby and Newt threw open the metal grates, and Cassandra walked forwards to peer inside with them.

"Holy..." Newt said then looked at her with wide eyes.

She gave him the exact same look before turning their attention back to the Box. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. It was another girl.

She was skinny and pale, with long dark hair that fanned around her as she lied completely still at the bottom. Cassandra couldn't tell if she was even breathing. Someone yelled for an explanation and Alby stood up.

"Two Newbies in two days," he muttered distractedly. "Now this. Two years, nothing different except for this shank and now this."

Then he turned to Thomas and demanded to know what was happening. She looked at the boy as well and Thomas merely stared back, his face a portrait of confusion. Cassandra could feel her own heart jump to her throat at what Alby was saying. She was sure now. Bad things were going to happen.

"Why don't you just tell us what the shuck is down there?!" Gally yelled.

"You shanks shut up!" Alby yelled back. "Tell 'em, Newt."

Newt took a moment to compose himself before turning to face the crowd of boys. His face was grave before he gave the announcement. "It's another girl."

All at once, the Gladers erupted into fervent chatter. Some of them yelled stupid things like calling dibs on the girl and it made Cassandra feel disgusted. Did their heads hold anything of value at all? Newt shushed them before they got even rowdier.

"That's not all of it, though," he said. "I think she's dead."

A hush settled over them for a moment before Alby started barking out orders again. They made a rope to pull the girl out of the Box and Cassandra went down on her knees to help them hoist her over the edge of the hole to lie on the ground. She certainly looked very dead.

The more curious thing was that Cassandra didn't recognise her. At all. She had no memory of the girl, no recollection or even a hint of familiarity. Nothing. Looking up at the others with undeniably frightened eyes, she shook her head. "Who is she?"

Then Alby turned to Thomas and started questioning him again. She suspected Thomas must have had some connection with the girl as well. It wasn't a coincidence that she came up right after he did.

Cassandra was just about to open her mouth to speak when the girl in front of her gasped and shot up to grab hold of her. She screamed in a blind fright just as Newt and Alby jumped back swearing loudly. The girl's eyes flew open to reveal bright blue irises that were dazed and out of focus. She blinked and looked up at Cassandra, mumbling something indecipherable under her breath. Then she spoke in a clear voice.

"Everything is going to change."

Her hand slid down Cassandra's arm as she collapsed back to the ground and a piece of paper fell out of it onto the ground. She leaned forwards to pick it up and unfolded the message.

"What is that?" Newt asked and she looked up at him with dread plastered across her face.

He took it from her and spread it across the ground so the others could see as well. Only five words were written in thick blocky letters.

" **She's the last one. Ever.** "


	29. HECUBA

**ACT I SCENE XXIX  
HECUBA**

* * *

 **"BLOODY DAMN, CASSANDRA...** you were right."

Cassandra looked up at Newt in front of her and his expression matched the way she felt. Utter horrified shock.

At least the girl wasn't actually dead, that would have been tragic. She stood up from the ground and dusted her pants off. Silence had fallen on the boys as they tried to digest the ominous message. Cassandra just wanted them to snap out of it. She wished Minho was there so she could take his hand.

"Someone get the Med-jacks!" she snapped. "She's not dead!"

Alby started yelling for them. Clint and Jeff made their way forwards from the crowd. Some of the boys still managed to find it in them to make distasteful comments about the girl and she threw them a heated glare. After figuring out what they should do with the girl, they lifted her up and brought her back to the Homestead. Cassandra turned to Thomas and he recoiled under her withering gaze.

"If you so much as get a spark, even a little _wisp_ of familiarity," she demanded of him. "I want to know. I don't remember ever seeing her before, which is weird. I want to know who she is."

"O-okay," he nodded uncertainly.

She turned to follow the Med-jacks but Thomas called for her to wait and she whipped her head around to glower menacingly at him again. He looked at her, chest heaving with emotion; anxiety, maybe, he looked like a dam about to burst wide open.

"What did you mean by that?" he asked. "You... do you remember...?"

"No," she said crisply. "Not everything."

"Cassandra, wait!" he took a step towards her. "I want to talk to you. I want to know what's happening."

"Yeah, you and everyone else," she said derisively.

He looked like he was about to argue with her but Alby interrupted him. The older boy looked like he was at the end of his tether.

"Call a Gathering," he said. "And you're joining us."

He looked at Cassandra with a scowl, as if it physically pained him to be saying that. She scowled right back before making a run towards the Homestead after the Med-jacks. It couldn't be possible that she didn't recognise the girl, maybe she just needed more time.

They had put her in the room next to Ben's, which so happily had been the room Cassandra used to stay in. Walking inside always brought back those memories of her first few months in the Glade. She thought things were already scary then. This was ten times worse.

Jeff looked up at her as she entered the room. She took a seat next to the bed and gently brushed away the tendrils of hair covering the girl's face.

Maybe if she sat there long enough, something would come to her.

"You know that's not gonna work, right?" Jeff asked.

She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"She's not gonna wake up no matter how long you stare at her," he said.

"Weirder things _have_ happened," she shrugged.

"Yeah, no kidding," he laughed humourlessly. "So how's it feel not being the only girl anymore? Maybe she'll be your new best friend."

"Kinda hard considering she's in a coma," she smiled at him.

Clint suddenly barged into the room, looking around at them with wide terrified eyes. Cassandra immediately stood up from her seat, knowing that something had gone horribly wrong before he even opened his mouth to speak. Just when she thought things couldn't possibly get anymore worse, it does.

"Ben's gone!" he cried.

Jeff swore out loud behind her. She dashed past Clint through the doorway and bounded down the stairs two at a time. The only thing going through her head was _shuck, shuck, shuck, shuck, shuck._

In her panicked state, she had run across the Glade towards the Gardens then stopped to bend over and catch her breath. Alby spotted her first. He usually ignored whatever she did but Cassandra guessed all his senses must be on high alert now. It didn't matter though; she needed all the help she could get to track Ben down. She was most afraid of the boy having run back into the Maze. If he did that, he was an absolute goner. There was no way they would be able to go in there, find him and bring him back before the Doors closed.

She glanced down at her watch. There was only about three hours left. Alby ran back towards the Homestead after she told him what happened, which annoyed her. Surely he didn't think the crazed sick Runner would be hiding in the cracks of the floorboards or something? She then looked for Newt to tell him the bad news.

"Where's Tommy?" he immediately asked.

"I am the last person to ask that," she replied. "Isn't he with Chuck?"

"I saw him run into the Deadheads," Zart said, coming up to them. "He chased after a beetle blade."

"Cass," Newt turned to her with slight panic on his face. "Get that idiot outta there. I'll tell the others about Ben."

"What-"

" _Cass_ ," he said pleadingly.

She sighed in frustration and gave a hard nod before making her way towards the copse of trees on the far side of the Glade, cursing Thomas in her mind. The Deadheads was still the one place she loathed going to. She hadn't been in there ever since...

Ever since they had Nick 'buried'. She clicked her tongue in irritation and swatted at a low hanging branch that was in her way. She couldn't find any footprints to indicate Thomas had run this way of the grove so the logical assumption would be that he managed to find the actual graveyard. Of course he would.

She changed her course and headed in that direction, stumbling over a few roots on her way there. The stream soon came into her view and she could hear a scuffle from up ahead. Then Ben's voice was ringing shrilly throughout the forest. A wave of trepidation washed over her and she sprinted in the direction of the sounds.

She spotted him up ahead, holding a long knife in his hand as he struggled with another boy on the ground. Thomas thrashed his body frantically, crying out for help as he held Ben's arm back. Cassandra stared in horror for a second before she ran forwards and hurled herself into Ben's side.

She gripped the knife in her hand and felt the blade sink into her flesh before twisting it quickly out of the boy's grip. Thomas scrambled forwards to kick Ben hard in the stomach and she yelled at him to stop.

"He'll kill the both of us!" he shouted at her.

"No, he won't!" she snapped. "Ben? Are you okay? You need to go back to bed, you're not-"

He pushed himself off the ground and throttled her back down. She fell onto a pile of muddy leaves with a loud grunt and lashed out in defence. His skin was full of sickness, dark green veins pulsating along his arms and neck; telltale signs of the Changing process.

This was a boy she had often talked to in the Map Room, discussing patterns, drinking and eating together. There wasn't a friendship stronger in the Glade than the one that the Runners shared with each other. They were a little family tucked within that concrete structure full of musty maps and the smell of copper. Once, he had chased away a couple of boys that had been taunting her.

Now he was trying to strangle her.

Thomas grabbed the knife from the ground and smashed the butt against the side of Ben's head hard enough to throw the boy off her. She quickly scrambled back to a stand just as Alby tore through the thicket.

He had a bow stretched with an arrow in his hands, and Cassandra realised the reason he had ran back to the Homestead instead.

"He'll wanna take us home," Ben ranted frenziedly. "He'll wanna get us out of the Maze. Better we all jumped off the Cliff! Better we all tore each other's guts out!"

"What is he talking about-?" Thomas started.

"Shut your face!" Ben screamed at him.

She had never seen anyone act that way before. To be honest, the only person who had ever acted this hysterical in her time in the Glade was herself. She didn't like that distinction. Did she look like that whenever she started spouting lunacy too?

"Ben..." she called out to him desperately. "Ben, please stop. You need to go back to bed. You're not well."

"He's bad, Cass, you know that too, right?" the boy turned to her with wild eyes. "You know what I'm talking about, right?! We need to kill him!"

"Ben," Alby said calmly. "I'm gonna count to three. Back off."

"Ben, please, just come over here," she held her hand out to him. "We'll take you back to the Homestead. You'll feel better in a couple of days. Just-"

"He's bad, he's bad, he's bad..." he started chanting underneath his breath and fidgeted his hands. "Bad, bad, bad, bad..."

He wasn't listening to anyone. Cassandra took a deep shuddering breath and stepped closer while Alby started counting down. Ben lifted his head and smiled, baring his teeth that took on a greenish sheen as well. Cassandra could feel her heartbeat skyrocket as she inched her way forwards.

"Ben..." Thomas said. "I'm not- I don't even know what..."

The boy screamed a mad strangled sound that didn't sound quite human. He lunged forwards at Thomas once more and at the same time; Cassandra felt something swoosh past her. Alby had shot his arrow and it hit its mark through Ben's cheek. The other Runner's head snapped to the side from the impact and landed on his front a couple of feet away.

She let out an ear-splitting scream and ran towards him, dropping to her knees next to the boy's body. Blood was slowly starting to pool around his head and she gasped from shock. Disbelief filled her to the brim as she looked down at him, then she turned around towards Alby furiously. Accusingly.

"YOU SHOT HIM! HOW COULD YOU?! ALBY, HOW COULD YOU?!"

"There ain't nothin' we can do for Ben anymore," he told her.

"SHUT UP!" she continued to shriek.

"Come on," Alby said detachedly. "Baggers'll take care of him."

"B-but..." Thomas looked back and forth between them.

"LEAVE!" she thought she would scream until her voice was hoarse. "GO! GET LOST BEFORE I KILL YOU TOO!"

Thomas stared at her like he was incapable of comprehending what had just happened and Alby was already walking away. Cassandra screamed some more threats until Thomas finally left then she turned back to Ben and broke out into anguished sobs.

Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. They might have been able to hear her wailing from all the way across the Glade to the Homestead. She didn't care. Ben was dead.


	30. HYBRIS

**ACT I SCENE XXX  
HYBRIS**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA DIDN'T KNOW** how long she sat there sniffling to herself. She didn't know what to do, the arrow sticking out of Ben's face was horrible to look at but she couldn't just leave him there on his own. She felt he deserved at least that, especially with what Alby had just done.

Anger bubbled up to the surface again at the thought of the older boy. She couldn't believe he was capable of such savagery. She didn't ever remember anyone having a problem with Ben, he had always been so kind. Everyone got along with him.

She heard leaves rustling behind her and twigs snapping under heavy footsteps. Soon, Jackson and two other Baggers appeared in the clearing. They took one look at her and Ben's body before heading over to do their work.

Jackson bent down and rolled Ben onto his back and she bit her lip uneasily as she watched them. There was a soft groan that startled them.

"C-Cass...?" Ben whispered hoarsely.

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, shooting forwards. "He's alive! He needs bandages, I'll find Clint!"

With a departing nod from the boys, she ran out of the woods back to the Homestead. Newt tried to hail her down as she passed by. She yelled the news out to him, and to everyone else in the nearby vicinity, without stopping.

Clint was still looking after the comatose girl when she let him know what happened. The Baggers carried Ben upstairs a few moments later. After making sure that Clint had things under control, and have her own hand cleaned up with a bandage, Cassandra stepped outside to take a moment for herself.

She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Newt had found his way over and he looked at her with concern. She figured she must look terrible with bloodstains on her hands and clothes from the ordeal with Ben. But at that moment, she felt relief. She was just glad that Ben was still alive. Newt stopped in front of her.

"You alright?" he asked.

She nodded and let out a humourless laugh.

"Can you believe this?" she asked. "Things are falling apart."

"Tell me about it," he rolled his eyes. "I heard about what happened. Don't be mad at Alby, he-"

"How can I not be mad at him?! He shot one of my friends!" she exclaimed heatedly.

"Ben's our friend too," he said patiently. "Look, Cass... none of this is easy, but Ben's gone. If he's actin' this way already then it means... well, you know what it bloody means."

"No..." she shook her head adamantly. "He just needs rest. He'll be fine."

"Cass," he always had this special tone that he reserved for her. It meant that he wasn't having any of her excuses, that he was being dead serious and she should be too. "He's gone."

"No!" she cried out. "I don't care! We can't give up on him!"

"It's over, Cass, we can't do jack anymore!" he told her. "If we leave him like this, he'll just go after Tommy again. Or some other poor kid! Shuck, he might just even kill himself! Whatever it is, he ain't coming back! We've gone through this before, Cass. We _know_!"

She stared at him speechlessly. Newt had never raised his voice with her. Not once. Ever. He looked away as if realising what he had just done and reached out to her but she drew back. She didn't know what to do, she wanted Minho.

"Um..." someone cleared their throat.

They looked to the side and saw Thomas peeking around the corner. He watched them cautiously, ready to take flight at any moment. Cassandra felt her temper flaring automatically at the sight of him and her face twisted into a deep scowl.

"What?!" she snapped.

"I... uh... just wanted to say sorry," he said.

"Why?"

"I don't know," he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I just want to understand what's happening."

"Good that," she nodded to him but her eyes held no sympathy for his plight. "Let me know how it goes."

She turned back around and stalked off, heading into the kitchen to grab her carving tools. Then she settled in a corner between two uneven walls at the back of the Homestead and dug into a wooden cube vehemently to vent her outrage.

The methodical practice took away some of her irritation, until she cut herself. She sucked the droplet of blood from her finger and looked up when she heard someone approaching. Minho had finally found her after combing through the entire Homestead.

He looked at her with a frown and dropped down next to her, squeezing into the narrow gap. Without saying a word, he wrapped an arm around her and leaned her head against his shoulder. She relaxed instantly into his comforting presence.

"You look like klunk," he said and she chuckled sarcastically. "Newt didn't fill me in on much. Just that there's a new girl and Alby shot Ben. Then you disappeared. I leave for a little while and everything goes to shuck."

She heaved a huge sigh and repositioned her head. He pulled her closer so that she was resting on his chest instead. It made her heart skip nervously but it was more comfortable and she liked it. She told him everything that had happened since he left the Glade that morning with explicit detail.

Minho didn't react or even made a sound. He just listened to her quietly with that frown still in place. It had grown more pronounced by the time she was done. He took her hand and interlaced his fingers through hers, stroking the bandage over her palm gently. Her skin always tingled whenever he touched her. It wasn't because she felt uncomfortable, it was just-

She had no idea what it was.

"You know he's right," Minho said softly.

She twisted her neck to look at him blankly. "Who is?"

"Newt. There's nothing we can do for Ben," he told her.

She sighed and turned her head back to the front. It was hard for her to admit it but she knew he was right too. How could she not when Nick used to go on and on about it? Cassandra nuzzled her head against Minho's chest and listened to his steady heartbeat. The exhaustion started to catch up to her and she tried to resist the urge to fall asleep right there. Her eyes had just drooped closed when a voice startled her back to the present.

"Lookit you both. How sweet, I think I got a tear in my eye."

They looked up at the same time to see Frypan standing over them with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Cassandra blinked up at him and felt bashful all of the sudden.

"Hi, Fry," she tried to cover it up. "Wanna join us?"

"Uh, I'll pass," he said. "Alby's calling for a Gathering now. We've been looking high and low for the both of ya."

"Oh, General Alby is?" Minho snickered. "How exciting!"

"I _can't_ wait!"

"Yeah, stow it for later," Frypan shook his head. "You'll probably need it."

He went ahead of them towards the Gathering and Cassandra pulled herself away from Minho to stand up. They walked around the Homestead towards the Council room where she opened the door and stepped inside.

There were two long rows of chairs arranged neatly in a semi-circle with a single chair in the middle. That chair was empty. Alby, Newt and the rest of the Keepers were already arguing amongst themselves in their seats. Cassandra and Minho sat at the edge of the congregation. Newt called for them to get straight to business now that everyone was finally there.

"Where do we even begin?" he looked to Alby.

"First thing I wanna know 'bout is that girl," the older boy said. "She ain't normal, considerin' past experience."

He threw Cassandra a nasty look and she glowered right back. She used to think that their relationship couldn't possible get anymore sour than what it was. It had now reached a whole new level of resentment.

"We can't do anythin' 'bout her when she's stuck in a coma," Clint said. "We'll just need to wait 'til she wakes up."

"I'm more concerned about the fact that Cass doesn't recognise her," Newt interjected. "When she recognises everyone. What's that mean?"

"Thomas should know her," she spoke out. "It took a while for the memories to come back to me, and I still don't remember everything yet. Could be the same for him. It can't be a coincidence that she came up right after he did."

"But he told us she wasn't familiar," Minho asked. "You always had a feeling, didn't you, Cassie?"

"Assuming if the shank is telling us the truth," Gally said from the other side of the room. "He could be lying for all we know."

She was inclined to agree with him but she kept that to herself for the moment. They bantered back and forth regarding the two newcomers but Cassandra felt like they were getting nowhere. And frankly, she wasn't interested. She'd actually preferred it if they locked the both of them up in the Slammer indefinitely. Problem solved. Thankfully Newt finally had enough and interrupted the discussion.

"Cass," he turned to her. "I think you need to tell everyone what you know about Thomas."

"No kidding," Frypan snorted. "What's your beef with the fella?"

She sighed discontentedly. That was the last thing she wanted to do but she told them anyway, recounting every memory she had of the boy. The times he visited her in the room, supervising the experiments they conducted on her, persuading her to believe in their cause. She confessed to knowing that he was only trying to help find some kind of cure but she still abhorred him and held a grudge against him for helping them torment her.

"But if he was one of them..." Minho started. "Why'd they wipe his memory and send him here?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Gally scowled. "He's up to something."

"Well, he's a shucking good actor then."

"Why do you trust him so much? Can't you tell he's lying?" the bulky boy seethed.

"I think," Cassandra raised her voice. "It's too soon to know anything. They just got here. One of them's a clueless shank who probly can't tell the end of a knife from its pointy end, and the other's in a shucking coma."

"That's what I've been saying this whole time!" Clint groaned in exasperation.

"So all we can do is wait and see, huh..." Newt said. "I guess we don't have much of a choice."

There was a pause before he started again.

"Now the other thing..."

"What do we do with Ben?" Alby finished.

His gaze swept across the room before finally settling on Cassandra. At the mention of the former Runner's name, her face twisted into a deep scowl and she glared at the older boy with fervent animosity.

"What else can we do?" Winston asked almost boredly. "Banish him."

She was about to protest but everyone in the room was already agreeing with him. Minho held her arm and shook his head to stop her from trying. She looked back at him grimly as Newt moved on to the voting. The boys all gave their nods of approval, then Newt reached the end of the row. He looked at her impassively and she pressed her lips together while shaking her head.

"Minho?" he swiftly passed over her.

"I refrain," the Keeper sighed. "Can't say yes in good conscience, man."

"That's still the majority," the blonde turned back to Alby. "Eight to one."

"Ben gets Banished," Alby said with an air of finality.


	31. PHOENIX

**ACT I SCENE XXXI  
PHOENIX**

* * *

 **THEY HAD THROWN BEN** into the Slammer right after the Med-jacks patched him up and Cassandra wandered around the Glade looking for a distraction.

Newt had brought Thomas to work the Blood House that morning. If it had been anyone else, she would have felt sorry for him. Working the Blood House on the first day was always tough for Newbies. If the smell didn't get them, Winston's gutting sure did, unless they were Slicer material, like how Fitz turned out to be. Thomas didn't seem to be the Slicer type though. Around lunchtime, he had left the Blood House looking a little green.

As per usual whenever she stayed behind, Cassandra helped the Cooks out in the kitchen because she didn't like being out in the sun for too long. The sunflowers she had grown were being harvested for their seeds now and they made great snacks for the Gladers, who were _always_ hungry.

She was cleaning the counter tops when Alby ran into the room in search for a cup of water. He looked at her impassively and grunted out that Minho was back early. She didn't have it in her that morning to glare at him and neither did Alby, apparently. They both had too much on their minds so the best they could come up with was casual indifference.

She ran out to see Minho, curious as to his premature return from the Maze. Thomas was there and him, she managed a customary scowl. The boy watched her approach them warily, looking like he was ready to recoil if she suddenly decided to bite his head off. It was a tempting thought. Minho was sat on the ground with his legs folded with some dirt streaked across his face. He beamed up at her, looking more smug than usual.

"What're you doin'?" she asked.

"Boy, do I have some news for you," he told her. "You ain't gonna believe this, Cassie-wassie."

Alby rejoined them a moment later and handed a tall cup of water to Minho. He gulped the entire thing without pause and sighed loudly.

"Okay, out with it," Alby demanded. "What happened?"

Minho raised his eyebrows and glanced at Thomas. Alby shook his head and said that he didn't care if the boy listened in. The Runner shrugged and slowly stood up, wincing slightly as he did so, then leaned against the wall, his eyes flicking up to meet theirs.

"I found a dead one," he said.

"A dead what?"

A wide smirk slowly spread across his face. "A dead Griever."

There was a pause before Alby and Cassandra spoke at the same time.

"Ain't a good time for jokes."

"You're joking."

Minho snorted at their timely reactions before going back to being serious. He really had found a dead Griever out near the Cliff. Cassandra felt a twinge of regret for staying in the Glade, she wanted to see it for herself too even if the thought made her queasy. Alby asked him why he didn't bring it back and Minho made a small sound that resembled a giggle.

"You been drinkin' Frypan's saucy-sauce?" he replied with amusement. "Those things must weigh half a ton, dude. Plus, I wouldn't touch one if you gave me a free trip outta this place."

"What did it look like?" Alby started questioning. "Were the metal spikes in or out of its body? Did it move at all– was its skin still moist?"

"Did it smell like Alby's feet?" Cassandra deadpanned.

The boy shot her a wilting glare. Minho snickered before suggesting that they could probably take a look and get back before the Doors closed. Alby thought about it for a second before deciding to do it the next morning. Minho nodded and pushed himself away from the wall. He smacked Alby on the arm before walking off with a slight limp in his step. Cassandra immediately followed after him.

"I should go back out there, but screw it," he said over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go and eat some of Frypan's nasty casserole."

He stopped and paused in thought, eyes lighting up.

"Hey Cassie," he turned to her. "I love you like Frypan's _Cass_ erole. Get it?"

He laughed to himself like it was the most hilarious thing in the world. Cassandra groaned and rolled her eyes then swatted at his arm. He winced slightly but still held his grin in place before starting off again towards the Homestead.

"Hey, you okay there?" she frowned worriedly. "You're limping."

"Yeah, pulled a muscle," he told her. "C'mere and help me out, will ya?"

She moved closer to him and he placed an arm around her shoulders. Cassandra wrapped hers around his waist to support him and they were almost to the Homestead when Minho started snickering again. She looked at him questioningly.

"I don't actually need your help," he said.

"You're impossible!" she exclaimed.

"And you're adorable," he gushed.

"You idiot," she said, trying and failing to stop herself from smiling. "Continue like that and I'll give you a real limp."

"Whatever you say, Cassie-roll," he smirked widely. "You're still not letting go of me."

"Yeah, only so I can do this!" she poked him in the sides real hard.

He yelled and jumped away from her, rubbing his ribs. "Ow," he groused. Satisfied with herself, Cassandra skipped her way towards the kitchen. They grabbed themselves a plate of casserole and joined the flock of boys.

Newt was already amongst them, sitting at a table with Zart and Winston. Minho was bursting to tell them the news when they asked him why he was back so early. She listened quietly to them as she ate and Newt had plenty of questions to ask about the Griever. He wanted as much detail as Minho could possibly give, which wasn't much, since it was Minho.

Alby had decided to do Ben's Banishing that evening right before the Doors closed and Minho waited for the other Runners to return to tell them about his discovery. He dragged Cassandra along with him even though she already knew, but he wanted everyone to be there. There were a lot of nervous glances around the Map Room before they filtered back into the Glade. Minho stopped at the threshold and turned around to look at Cassandra who hadn't moved from her seat.

"Cassie? You coming?" he called.

She sighed heavily as she debated with herself. Finally, she nodded and followed him outside.

Everyone had already gathered by the North Door. She could see Jackson and his cronies heading their way from the Slammer with Ben in tow. His clothes were tattered and a large bloodied bandage was wrapped around his head. The skin on his face was starting to turn yellow and his veins were black. There were tears in his eyes. She didn't know whether it was from the pain of having a gaping hole in his face, or that he knew he was being Banished. It made her heart plummet from her chest.

They came to a stop in front of Alby. Minho went closer but she didn't follow, opting to stay at the back because she didn't trust herself not to throw her body in the way and stop them from pushing Ben out of the walls. A couple of feet away, Thomas stood with his arms crossed as he peered over the shoulder of a taller boy.

"Newt," Alby said steadily. "Bring out the Pole."

The blonde nodded and started walking towards the nearby shed. He came back a moment later with several aluminium poles which he connected together, then grabbed the strap at one end to drag the finished pole towards Alby. It scraped along the ground with nerve grating loudness. Cassandra had never seen a Banishing before and she watched them with gross fascination. Newt passed the pole to Alby and he clasped it around Ben's neck like a collar.

As if rousing from a trance, the boy looked up. Snot was dribbling down his nose as he begged Alby to stop. Cassandra didn't know where they left their humanity but they had taken hers with them. Alby picked the pole up and slid along its length to the end where he positioned himself. His face was scrunched up with enmity.

"Ben of the Runners," he said with pompous ceremony. "You've been sentenced to Banishment for the attempted murder of Thomas the Newbie. The Keepers have spoken, and their word ain't changing. And you ain't coming back. Ever."

He ordered for the Keepers to take their positions and she started. Newt and Minho made their way towards the pole and everyone wore masks of anger or apathy. All she could see was Ben's back but his body writhed in an attempt to escape, his anguished sobs filling the air. It squeezed her heart with sympathy and she didn't know if she could hold her tears back.

"Please!" he cried. "Please, help me! You can't do this to me!"

"Shut up!" Alby snarled from the back.

Ben continued crying and begging. The Gladers turned their eyes away from him, unable and unwilling to help. Cassandra stood rooted to the spot and felt disgusted with herself. A deep rumble resounded all around them, signalling that the doors were ready to close. The booming sound was loud enough to momentarily drown Ben's cries.

"Keepers, now!" Alby shouted loudly and as one, they started to push the pole forwards. Ben dropped to his knees but Zart grabbed him and hauled him back to his feet. Then they were pushing again and Ben was screaming, spit flying everywhere.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he cried desperately. "PLEASE STOP! DON'T PUT ME OUT THERE!"

He tried to plant his feet firmly at the edge of the Glade but lurched forwards when they thrust hard against his back. She forced herself to watch as he staggered a few feet out of the Glade. Even with her memory taken and she was pushed into a bizarre new life, she felt the sense of déjà vu rush through her as the world she knew crumbled around her.

Ben twisted himself violently around the leather collar and managed to face them. He looked nothing like the boy she knew anymore; his skin taut with sickness, eyes red and bulging out of their sockets. He screamed, a long drawn out wail that pierced their ears and it sent a sharp pain shooting through Cassandra's head.

Zart managed to loosen the main part of the pole from the one connected to Ben's and pulled it back inside the walls at the last second. The Doors closed with a final boom and cut Ben off from them. His scream stopped, only to be picked up by a shriller one from inside the Glade. Everyone turned to look in alarm.

It was Cassandra, she was screaming violently. It felt like a million blazing shards were digging through her brain, twisting and slashing at every neural fibre. She had never felt such agonising pain in her entire life before and dropped to her knees as she dug her fingers into her scalp. Minho and Newt were by her side a second later, each one holding her hands away. There were already tendrils of hair clenched tightly in her fists, knuckles turning bone white. No one else dared to go near her.

"IT HURTS!" she shrieked. "MY HEAD! OH GOD IT HURTS! THE FLARE!"

She screamed one more time before crumpling forwards, eyes rolling to the back of her head.


	32. PANDORA

**ACT I SCENE XXXII  
PANDORA**

* * *

 _ **SHE WAS LYING DOWN** on the bed pretending to be asleep. They usually left her alone when they thought she was asleep. She knew she was dreaming and the sensation still felt strange to her. It was ethereal, like she was only half-there, everything looked and sounded like it was being filtered through a glass tube. A man and a woman walked into the room then, talking intently. She recognised their voices._

 _"The virus has taken a strong hold on her prefrontal lobe," Dr Clark said. "But it seems to be spreading. Very slowly though, at an almost insignificant rate."_

 _"So she's not completely immune?" the Chancellor asked._

 _"It's difficult to say at this stage," she replied. "She seems to be getting side effects; pre-cognitive ability."_

 _"You've mentioned it before. Something like foresight?"_

 _"Yes, it's truly remarkable," the doctor said excitably. "I've never seen such a thing before. The virus must be causing more neurons to fire- more brain areas to activate at the same time."_

 _"Is she getting symptoms?" he asked warily._

 _"There was a minor episode two days ago," she answered. "But she recovered all composure immediately after. Chancellor, I think she may be the one."_

 _"How quickly can you prep her?"_

 _"We can do it now."_

 _She heard the clicking of the doctor's heels approach the bed then a hand on her shoulder was shaking her gently. A sickeningly sweet soothing voice called out to her and she turned away from them, shutting her eyes tightly. The dream started to melt away as her primary consciousness took control and her senses came back to full focus._

She was still lying down, but in a humid room filled with the musty damp of moulding wood. There was the familiar bleating of goats and pigs squealing outside. Mildew, grass and the faint scent of fried chicken from the kitchen. She loved the smells of the Glade, it felt of home and laughter. Sunlight penetrated through her eyelids and a new pair of voices spoke nearby.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Dunno."

"I'm guessing it's happened before?"

"Yeah."

"What's the Flare?"

"No bloody clue."

Shockingly, her body wasn't in any pain at all but she felt extremely dull and slow. Fighting against the enticing lull of sleep calling her back, she blinked her eyes open and turned her head to the side. Newt was there to greet her, his gentle face a welcome sight and she returned a tired smile of her own.

"How long was I out?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"Not too long," he told her. "It's past midday now. You had a fever but Clint gave ya some meds. Does your head still hurt?"

"I feel completely fine actually," she said. "Just really tired."

He told her to have something to eat first then slipped out of the room to grab her some food. She continued to lie there in a half-daze before she noticed movement in the corner of the room. She turned her head to find Thomas standing there, not really knowing what to do with himself and raised her eyebrow at him. He shuffled forwards and stood over her beside the bed. She was too tired to be her hostile self with him.

"Hey..." he sat down on the chair hesitantly.

"Thomas..."

"I just want to know," he said pleadingly. "You seem like you know a lot."

"I hardly know anything," she told him and closed her eyes briefly. "I only remember bits and pieces here and there."

"But you remember _me_ , right?"

She turned to look at him and his dark eyes pleaded her with a desperate urgency.

"I only know you used to be one of 'em," she sighed. "They locked me in a room and experimented on me. You helped them."

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "Whatever I've done before, I'm really sorry. Please just tell me what's going on."

She took a deep breath and her eyes flickered back to his face. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she knew Thomas wasn't actually a bad guy but she wasn't ready to come to terms with that just yet. The exhaustion made her temporarily soft and she almost spilled it all out to him if Newt hadn't just walked back into the room with food. She slowly pushed herself up to a sitting position and took the tray from him. Newt stayed by her side, fussing over her like a mother hen, which was pretty amusing.

"Where's Minho?" she asked. "Did they bring the Griever back with them?"

Newt frowned. "They're not back yet..."

"What?!" she started and looked at him with wide eyes. "No way, they should be back by now. The Cliff isn't that far away."

His frown grew deeper. "I know."

"Think something might have happened to them?" Thomas sat up straight. "Maybe they got attacked?"

She laughed nervously. "No way. Stop being a shank, Thomas."

"They could just be taking their time to look around," Newt eventually shrugged but she saw that he was worried as well. "We'll know when they get back."

Once she was done with her meal, Newt took the tray back from her. He shooed Thomas out of the room so that she could get some more rest and promised to come back in the evening. But she couldn't rest, not when Minho was still out there. She laid there for a long time; her body weighed down with lethargy, her mind a muddled mess.

The light was starting to dim outside and there was still no sign of the two boys back in the Glade. She mustered enough energy to haul herself out of bed and drag her feet to the window. Her hands unlocked the rusty hinges and heaved them open to peer outside. The Gladers were all grouped around the entrance of the Maze, waiting for their Keeper and leader to return. Nervous anxiety started to seep into her system and her stomach clenched uncomfortably.

She glanced at her watch and felt her heart drop then leaned out the window to strain her eyes at the crack in the Wall. It wouldn't be the first time that the Runner came back later than usual, but this was cutting it too close. It didn't feel right. Suddenly there was shouting and the Gladers started pointing into the Maze just as a loud rumbling crack sounded, like a clap of thunder.

The sign that the Doors were closing.

Without thinking it through, she flew across the room and wrenched the door open. She pushed past Clint who had just come up to check on her and jumped down the stairs three at a time. Bursting through the door of the Homestead, she was sprinting across the Glade seconds later. There was a gap between the group of boys and she could see two figures in the distance. One of them was carrying the other over his shoulder.

 _Minho_.

"SOMEBODY STOP HER!" Clint shouted from the other side of the field.

Only a few people heard him and Thomas was one of them. He stood at the front of the group and turned his head to look back as she barrelled through the throng of boys, surprising herself with how much strength she could summon. The walls were closing in fast and it was already too late when Newt realised what she was doing.

She was racing against time yet everything happened around her with perfect clarity. Newt yelled at her and Thomas grabbed hold of her shirt. Then Minho's eyes widened in horror as she squeezed through the metal bars.

Cassandra collapsed to the ground just as the Doors behind her shut tightly with a final resounding boom.

* * *

She scrambled to the side and her stomach started to heave but nothing came out. Her entire body shook from its exertions and sweat slid down her back. Alby cried out sharply from up ahead just as Minho groaned in pain. Someone behind her ran forwards to them.

"What the shuck have you done?!" Minho cried in dismay. "And Greenie, if you think that was a brave thing you just did by following her, listen up. You're the shuckiest shuck-faced shuck there ever was. You're as good as dead, just like us."

"I couldn't just stand there and leave you guys out here," Thomas said heatedly.

"And what good are you with us? Whatever, dude. Break the Number One Rule, kill yourself, whatever."

"You're welcome. I was just trying to help," the boy replied, voice thick with sarcasm.

"Minho!" Cassandra finally gasped and stumbled her way towards them. "Oh, shuck. Minho, are you okay?!"

She dropped to her knees in front of him and flung her arms around his neck. Minho hugged her tightly with what strength he still had left. It could very well be their last and the thought sent her heart plummeting to the ground.

"Shuck is right," he said, brushing hair from her face. "What were you thinking?"

"I couldn't... I couldn't possibly..." she leaned back to look at him, breathing heavily. He was cut up and looking positively worse for wear. "Oh, God, Minho..."

"Cassie," he gave her an agonised look.

"Um, guys... less hugging, more planning?"

Cassandra whipped around to look at Thomas furiously. "Why did you follow me?!" she demanded, temper flaring at him. "How stupid could you be?!"

"Like I said, I couldn't-"

"Ugh, Thomas! Have you heard nothing of what the others have told you?!" she growled reproachfully.

"Hey, you knew better than I did and you're here too!" he said indignantly.

"At least I'm a shucking Runner! You-"

She stopped suddenly and looked down the long corridor into the Maze when she thought she heard a click. A chill crept up her spine as she looked back to Minho. The brevity of their situation had finally hit her hard and the paranoia settled in with it.

"We can't stay here," she whispered.

He gazed down at her stonily for a couple of seconds and Thomas started asking about Alby but Minho was clearly in no mood to talk about it. The older boy looked terrible; his clothes were ripped and bloodied like he'd been through hell and back.

"Was he... bitten? Stung, whatever? Is he going through the Changing?" Thomas asked.

"You've got a lot to learn," Minho shook his head. "He could be dead within the hour. I don't know. We'll be dead too so no use getting all weepy about it. Yep, we'll all be nice and dead soon."

Thomas simply stared at him for a moment. "We really don't have a chance? You're telling me there's nothing we can do and we're gonna die just like that?"

"There is something you can do, Thomas," she told him harshly. "Shut up."

Even if someone had equipped her with a flamethrower, she didn't know how many of those monsters would swarm in on them. Dozens? Hundreds even? Could there really be that many?

Minho had managed to get up and grab Alby's arms. "Come here and help me with him."

"What are we doing?" Thomas asked eagerly.

"Giving 'em at least one body to bury the next morning," Minho replied and that didn't seem to be the answer Thomas had been hoping for.

"Come on, stop being so depressing, both of you!" he exclaimed. "I'm sure we can think of something? Climb up the vines, maybe? "

"Stop being such an idiot, Thomas," she said impatiently. "No one has shucking survived the Maze at night."

"But what about Ben and Gally? They've been stung before," he frowned.

"That's because they came back before sunset and got the Serum on time, you dong," Minho told him and crouched down looking completely spent. "Haven't you seen the graveyard? Nothing kills happy time more than being reminded of your slaughtered friends every day. And that's only the ones we found, there are more who didn't make it. Grievers probably ate the bodies or whatever."

"But what if-"

Minho finally had enough of Thomas' questions and grabbed the front of his shirt roughly.

"You don't understand, shuck-face! You don't know anything, and you're just making it worse by trying to have hope! We're dead, you hear me? Dead!"

Minho looked away from Thomas and scrunched his face up in shame. He let go of the boy and backed away. She could see the nervous tension vibrating through his body. Minho, who was always so brave and joked about everything, never hesitated to fight tooth and nail even when the odds were against him. He dropped to the ground and buried his face in his fists.

"Ah, man, oh man," he groaned. "I've never been this scared before, dude. Not like this."

"But you're both Runners!" Thomas exclaimed in frustration. "You know the Maze! You've met Grievers before, haven't you?! You can't give up!"

"This is different, man, you _don't know_ ," Minho said in exasperation.

Thomas opened his mouth to argue again but stopped. They froze in petrified silence and Cassandra felt her hairs stand on end. Low mechanical whirring resonated from deep inside the Maze. The clicking of metallic claws against the stone floor. A hollow ringing. The squelch of oozing flesh. She felt her pulse quicken and ice cold fear froze her limbs.

They were coming.

"We have to split up," Minho said quickly. "It's our only chance. Just keep moving. Don't stop moving!"

He shot forwards to grab hold of Cassandra's arm. She was still kneeling on the ground, eyes wide with terror as her body started to shake. Her face was pale and she looked at him with barely concealed panic.

"Cassie, come on, we need to go."

She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "I-I can't... I can't move..."

"Yes, you can," he urged, eyes darting around anxiously. "Cassie, come on. We need to go! _We need to go!_ "

The desperation in his voice snapped her out it and spurred her into action. She forced herself to move, lifting her knee up and pushing against her left foot. Her body jerked upwards and Minho grasped her hand tightly. Cassandra stumbled before breaking into a lumbering run after him. They left Thomas and fled into the Maze.


	33. SPHYROKOPOI

**ACT I SCENE XXXIII  
SPHYROPKOPOI**

* * *

 **THE MAZE FELT BOTH** familiar and alien to her. The darkness cast shadows in every corner of the walls and she imagined Grievers lying in wait for an ambush. It looked completely different than what she was used to. Even in daylight, the twisting hallways were already daunting enough but in the pale waning light, it looked like something out of a nightmare.

Like the story of the Minotaur. Except there was no ancient hero out to slay beasts; just two exhausted teenagers with next to no weapons save for their little knives. And a single Griever was a lot more deadly than a Cretan bull.

Her mind was numb and she could barely breathe. The only thing she could do was to force her tired legs to run in pace with Minho, relying on adrenaline, muscle memory and sheer willpower. Corridor after corridor and turn after turn, they ran in mute horror. Cold sweat trickled down her back and her body shivered with fear at the endless passageways that laid ahead of them.

"Minho..." she started. "You told Thomas to split up..."

"Don't leave me, Cassie," he turned to her with wide eyes.

"Don't leave me too," she choked out.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she tightened her hold on his hand, desperately clinging to him for support. Her stomach tightened itself into uncomfortable knots, panic working its way through her system. They stopped every so often to check their bearings and she heard the faint rumble of grinding stone.

The Maze was already changing all around them. He led her through the winding corridors, always aware of the altering patterns. Finally, she couldn't go on any longer and pulled him to a stop.

"Minho," she gasped. "Minho, I can't anymore."

He turned around to look at her worriedly. Cassandra felt her lungs were ready to explode as she doubled over and panted heavily. Her legs felt like matchsticks that would snap at a moment's notice. Her arms too. Her entire body was trembling. Minho gathered her into his arms, and she could hear his erratic heartbeat.

"Me neither," he panted.

Her breathing increased rapidly and she tried to clench her fists in an attempt to stop the tremors that were consuming her.

"Cassie, hey," Minho took her face in his hands. "Look at me. Okay? Come on, Cassie. Remember the first time we went into the Maze? You were scared too, right? Remember what I asked you?"

"D-Do you trust me?" she stuttered.

"Yeah," he spoke so softly. "Do you still trust me?"

"Y-yes."

"Okay. Hold your breath."

She frowned and tried to concentrate on him. His warm hands against her skin, the way his eyes looked back at her in concern, the rhythmic movement of his chest. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and held it in for as long as she could. After a moment, she exhaled sharply and gasped for air.

"Cassie?"

She gripped his arms tightly and her shoulders started to relax, her breathing finally evened out. He smoothed her dark hair against the side of her head and wiped the sweat from her eye with a calloused thumb. The small gesture eased the quake in her heart.

"Okay. Good," he nodded satisfactorily. "Come on. We can't stay in one spot for too long."

She agreed and he took her hand again, starting back down the corridor in a brisk walk.

The Maze felt like a silent grave, waiting for them to make it their eternal home. Their footsteps brushed softly against the rough stone and she swore she could hear clicking coming down each passageway they walked by.

They stayed within the inner section, going in a big circle around the center where the Glade sat in its safe haven. She thought about the hiding holes; they looked like they might be able to squeeze two people inside. Then she remembered the skeletons and abandoned the idea.

If others have tried it and still died, then that shouldn't still be an option. Her thoughts turned to Thomas unexpectedly and she wondered if he was still fighting to survive. They hadn't come across any Grievers yet, which was surprising. Was he faring as well as them?

She hated herself for it, but she had to admit that he was right. They shouldn't be giving up this easily. Minho was their Keeper; he knew the Maze like the back of his hand and he could hold his own against a Griever. And if worse came to worst, she would fight like a crazed lunatic for all her worth. They just had to survive till dawn, how hard could that be? It was only a few hours away.

Somehow that didn't sound very convincing even in her own head.

"What are you thinking about?" Minho asked her quietly as his eyes darted around the corridor.

"Just wondering whether it was the right thing to leave Thomas," she glanced at him. "I know, I know... but... I'd feel a little bad if he died 'cause we left him."

"I know what you mean," he said. "Let's just keep an eye out."

She nodded her head and they continued on their way. Minho picked routes that would lead them closer to the Doors by using the patterns. She didn't know how long they had walked for but it felt like hours had passed.

Above them, the sky remained dark and starless, an empty void threatening to swallow them whole. The Maze was eerily silent and the suspense was killing her when Minho suddenly stopped. He had a deep frown on his face, then he turned to her.

"Do you smell that?" he whispered and she inhaled deeply through her nose.

Oil. She recognised its putrid scent. The look on her face must have been as clear as day and Minho pressed himself against the wall. He edged towards the corner of the junction up ahead and peered around it carefully, then turned back around with a troubled look.

"This path leads back to the Doors we came out of," he whispered. "And there's a shucking Griever in our way."

"We have to find another route then," she whispered back.

He took another peek around the corner then shook his head as if he couldn't understand what was happening. Cassandra looked at him questioningly.

"What?"

"It's just sitting there," he told her.

She inched her way around him and took a peek for herself. The disgusting bloated monster was indeed lying there motionless. Its metal spikes were retracted into its body and it just looked like a massive blob of oozing flesh. Appalled, she pulled away.

"Maybe Grievers need sleep too, whatever, let's just go," she tugged at his hand.

With a last look of bewilderment over his shoulder, he started back down the corridor. They backtracked until they reached a previous cross section and took a different path. It led to another t-junction and Minho carefully peered around that as well. He turned back to her with that exact same look of perturbation on his face from before.

"Another one just sitting there," he informed. "But we can't go back this time."

"Can we sneak past it then?" she asked.

"Maybe... it's facing this way though," he said. "If we head left, it'll eventually take us back to the Doors again."

"We should hurry before it wakes up."

He nodded in agreement and took another peek around the corner. Then he took a tentative step forward into the corridor without taking his eyes off the creature.

Nothing happened.

She followed after him and threw a quick look at the stationary blob. They tiptoed down the long hallway, careful not to make a single sound and they were about three quarters of the way when there was a loud revving. Startled at the sudden noise, they froze and turned to look at the same time.

The Griever was getting up. Its metallic appendages unfurled themselves from its body like a gigantic spider to click its claws against the stone. The gears inside it whirred back to life and it opened its dark beady eyes. Lifting its belly off the ground, it took one look at them and shrieked.

They fled.

It bounded after them with its spiked tail bouncing along behind it, stone cracking under its weight as it tore down the corridor. They let go of each other's hands and sprinted for their lives, turning the corner at the end of the passageway sharply.

She followed behind Minho closely, not daring to look back. Her legs strained with effort and her hairs stood on end as the Griever screeched behind her. She was so afraid that more would come their way from all the pandemonium it was making.

"C'mon, we'll lose it through this way!" Minho yelled, signalling for her to turn.

They skidded halfway down the corridor and hurled themselves to the right through an opening in the wall. The corridor ahead of them was ridiculously long but she heard the crack of stone and saw a section of the wall in front of them start to move. The Griever had caught up to them and made chase.

"Hurry, Cassie!"

They were almost there, and the wall was halfway closed by now. She pushed herself to run faster, trying to ignore the frenzied sounds behind her. It was so close; she could imagine it snapping its teeth at her back and her heart jumped up to her throat. Minho was about three feet away; they only had this one small window of opportunity to lose their predator.

She felt something caught at her ankle, a stray vine tripping her, and she cried out as she crashed to the cold hard ground. Her arm scraped against the rough stone and the fall jolted her entire body.

Minho had just passed through the closing gap when he turned around but it was too late. She had one final look at Minho's horrified face as the passageway closed in on itself.


	34. NAUSICAA

**ACT I SCENE XXXIV  
NAUSICAA**

* * *

 **"NO!" SHE GASPED.**

The Griever had slowed to a gait and was now bearing down on her menacingly. She scrambled forwards to the wall, raking her nails across it, but it was shut tight. She looked over her shoulder at the monstrosity ambling towards her, as if enjoying its little victory.

Her heart thumped painfully against her sternum but she was too terrified to utter a single sound. She was going to die. This was how her life was going to end- slashed to pieces and gutted like an animal.

She curled herself into a ball, unable to look any longer, and squeezed her eyes shut. Tears leaked out, running down her cheeks, and she waited for the inevitable pain as her body shook violently from fear. All she could hear was its mechanical whirring, smelt the burning oil and decaying flesh.

Cassandra prayed for it to be quick and that it would take her mangled body away with it. She didn't want anyone to find her that way- especially Minho. It was better if she just vanished, make it easier for everyone.

A ripping pain shot through her arm as a metallic claw seized hold of her. She cried out in pain as the Griever pinned her against the wall, its tight grip already rupturing the blood vessels underneath her skin and leaving a discoloured bruise. Sobs wracked through her body and she felt like a rag doll about to be torn apart by malicious hands.

The claws unfurled and she dropped back to the ground in a pitiful heap, bringing her arms around her head instinctively. A long moment passed by without anything happening. She thought her perception of time had just warped from how scared she was and it would happen any second now. Everything would end soon. She would end soon.

Then there was the clicking of its claws against the stone ground. Anxious and befuddled, she dared to look up. The Griever had turned around and was walking away from her. It turned the corner where they had come up from and disappeared.

An unbelievable silence rang throughout the corridor after its departure.

Apart from her beating heart and short quick breathing, it was gone. _It was gone?!_ She sat up and leaned against the stone wall behind her in shock. Relief, as well as questions, flooded through her mind. Why did nothing ever make sense? She felt like throwing her hands up in surrender and screaming at the same time.

There was a loud crack and she felt the wall behind her start to shift. She scrambled away from it and stared in continued bewilderment. The opening revealed Minho standing behind the wall, watching it move with utter confusion. When he saw her, his face went ashen as if he was looking at a ghost.

"Cassie...?" he whispered in disbelief.

They gawked at each other for a couple of seconds before he shot forwards and dropped to his knees. He took her face in his hands, rubbing the trails of tears that stained her cheeks with his thumbs and unable to believe his own eyes. Feeling her flushed skin against his, he let out a sharp breath before pulling her against his chest. She reached up to grab his sleeve with a hand to steady herself.

"How in the hell..." he started. "I thought I'd lost you forever. What... how...?"

"I-I don't know," she said, voice trembling. "It just stopped and turned around."

"Well, I'm shucking glad it did!" he exclaimed. "Cassie. You're alive! You're _shucking_ alive!"

The celebration didn't last for long. They suddenly heard screeching in the distance, not entirely far away from where they were. A chorus of shrieks; at least two of them, and she turned to look at Minho apprehensively.

"Hey... do you think..." he looked into the distance.

"Thomas!" she cried. "They're going after Thomas! We need to help him!"

Grudge be damned, nobody deserved to die this way. She pushed herself to her feet and pulled Minho along. They ran back down the way they came, following the hell-raising sounds.

Eventually, they reached a short narrowed corridor and stopped at its opening. The shrieking had come to an abrupt stop. They peered around the corner and saw Thomas caught between four Grievers; one in front of them and three others scuttling forwards from the other end. Minho shook his head.

"We can't help him," his voice was soft with defeat. He was right. There was no way they could take on that many of them.

Then something incredible happened. With a great show of bravery, Thomas rushed towards the lone Griever ahead of them. His outrageous yell met with the Griever's shriek as it charged head on towards the boy.

Then at the very last second, he dove to the side and the Griever barrelled down the corridor. He immediately sprinted down the passageway past them. Minho and Cassandra pressed themselves against the wall as all four of the Grievers rushed forwards on their pursuit. They looked at each other in astonishment.

"Are you thinking... what I'm thinking?" she asked.

"Shuck yes," he replied with a grin. "Come on, we'll catch him down this way!"

She dashed after him down another corridor. The one Thomas had just gone down was an incredibly long path that led to a dead end, with three turns and only one exit further down its middle. They cut across the maze towards that opening, overtaking the monsters and the fleeing boy.

The two Runners stopped at the end of the last corridor and peeked around the edge. A moment later, Minho reached out and grabbed hold of Thomas to pull him in. The boy started freaking out, flailing his arms violently before he realised that it was them. A look of relief washed over his face as he stared at them like they were angels sent down from heaven.

"How did you-?" he started.

"Shut up and follows us!" Minho yelled, dragging him roughly by the shirt.

Thomas complied implicitly and they sprinted, turning sharply down another passageway to buy them more time. Halfway there, Minho attempted to explain their idea to Thomas. "The Cliff-" he managed to breathe out before grounding his feet to a sudden halt. Cassandra rammed her nose against his back painfully.

"What? What?" she looked around anxiously.

"The hell? This way should have been open," he looked at the wall in front of him.

"Uh... Minho..."

He weighed their options. The Grievers were coming up fast from behind them and on their left, a new passageway seemed to have opened up. Without further ado, they ran down it despite having no idea where the path led to. From what the two Runners could tell, they were sort of heading in the right direction but the corridors were all messed up.

It was like a long funnel; all the exits and openings had been shut closed. She glanced at Minho, who had a disturbed expression on his face. It was like _they_ knew what they were trying to do- the Creators. Were they helping them? It didn't make sense but there wasn't any time to dwell on it.

They continued westwards, into the middle section, to where the Cliff was. Several turns later, she could finally see the dark empty expanse in front of them and slowed to a stop. Minho put his arm out to make sure Thomas didn't fall in and the boy looked out in awe, jaw hanging open with wide eyes.

Cassandra stepped up next to him and peered out at the fading twinkle of stars. She felt that magnetic pull whenever she looked into it, always lasting for only the briefest of seconds. Turning to Minho, she found excitement in his eyes.

"Careful there. Neither of you'll be the first shanks to fall off the Cliff," he said, a small smirk on his face. "Hey, forgot something?"

Thomas turned back around and looked down the corridor. The Grievers had caught up to them and lined up in single-file, heading in their direction.

"Okay, we got this," Cassandra said as they arranged themselves on the edge of the Cliff. She could hear her heart beating nervously in her chest. "Stand here, Thomas."

"I know," he told her. "I'm ready."

"We need to be in sync!" Minho yelled as the Grievers rushed towards them. "On my mark!"

She could see every detail of the monstrosities now; their hideous faces with lifeless black eyes and gaping mouths with rows of razor sharp teeth. Greying flesh wriggled under the jerks of their limbs and the faint light glinted off their metallic arms cruelly, allowing her to see each deadly attachment.

"Ready..." Minho said, voice steady. "Almost... not yet..."

She steadied herself as the Grievers grew closer and coiled her muscles ready.

"NOW!"

As soon as he gave the signal, they dove to the left and Thomas threw himself in the opposite direction. She felt the first Griever's arm catch at her hair and pull her head backwards. It only lasted a second as the sharp metal sheared through her dark locks and the Griever tumbled over the edge of the Cliff with a dying screech.

One by one they went plummeting past them; their frenzied cries getting suddenly cut off. The last Griever had stopped in time, digging its metal spikes into the hard ground and hung on tenaciously. It swayed back and forth on the verge of falling. They looked at each other.

Cassandra drew out her knife and sent it flying through the air at the Griever. It lodged itself deeply in the creature's neck and it lifted its front legs, squealing angrily as it slipped further down. Thomas and Minho pushed themselves off the ground, ran forwards and kicked at it. There was another shrill cry as the Griever soared over the precipice.

Thomas scrambled to the edge and peered over to take a look but they were already gone. Breathing heavily, he laid down and drew his knees up to his chest. A moment later, his body shook as he started to sob.

Cassandra exchanged a glance with Minho as the both of them stumbled backwards into the wall and slid down to the ground at the same time. She put her head between her arms and tried to catch her breath.

Dawn started to peek out, sending out a dusky glow that settled over them. For once, it actually warmed her skin. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a long groaning rumble that announced the opening of the Doors. She looked up at the pale dark blue sky and closed her eyes.


	35. HERMIONE

**ACT I SCENE XXXV  
HERMIONE**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA STARTED** , not realising that she had fallen asleep. They were still in the Maze. She didn't know how long she had been out for but the light had gotten brighter; shining like a large lamp high above them. Minho was crouched in front of her and she felt his hand on her shoulder. He smirked, eyes darting around her face.

"Nice haircut."

She reached up and ran her fingers through her locks, coming up short. Grasping the ends in her hand, she looked down and found her long hair was gone. She stared with wide horrified eyes as she remembered what happened to it.

"Holy crap."

Minho snickered again at her reaction, then helped her up to stand and she swept her gaze around them.

The Cliff looked like an endless fall into an abyss from where they were perched. Thomas was asking Minho questions about it, his usual inquisitive self intact from the terrors of the night before. Although it'd been dark, they had definitely seen the Grievers disappearing as they went over the edge of the Cliff.

One of the boys used to have a theory that things would just disappear down the chasm, but Minho proved it wrong again by chucking a rock into it. The piece of granite continued to fall until they lost sight of it.

"Then what do you think happened?" Thomas asked.

Minho shrugged. "Maybe they're magic. My head hurts too much to think about it."

Thomas started then as if he just remembered something and told them that they had to go back to get Alby. Cassandra and Minho looked at him as if he had just gone insane. From their expressions, he quickly explained himself; that he'd tied Alby with vines and hoisted him up the wall.

Cassandra snorted. "You did what with what?"

"No way he's still alive, dude..." Minho looked down dejectedly.

"How do you know that? Come on," Thomas urged as he started down the corridor with a small limp.

"Because no one's ever made it..." Minho trailed off then looked up and exchanged a glance with her. She could see the gears turning in his head and looked back with wide eyes at the sudden realisation.

Alby had only been stung once and he hadn't been mauled by a Griever. Assuming that he was still fine hanging out on the wall and hadn't been eaten by anything while they were running around the Maze. He could actually still be alive.

Minho got up and followed after Thomas, looking like he'd just had an epiphany. She followed after them down the corridor, her thoughts racing. Nobody had ever survived a night out in the Maze because the Grievers had always gotten to them first. They didn't know whether being stung actually killed a person or just left them in agony until they got a Serum. Maybe it was just some kind of debilitating poison.

They picked up their pace, turning down every corner with renewed vigour. It was still a slow walk though, as their bodies ached too much to go any faster than they already were. Thomas continued asking questions, taking advantage of Minho's talkativeness while Cassandra trailed along behind them. She wanted nothing more than to just crawl into a bed and sleep for an entire week.

They turned the last corner that led to the Glade when Thomas faltered. She looked up to find a group of boys outside the Doors, it seemed they had organised a search party for them. Newt was in the lead and he was already limping over as soon as he caught sight of their bedraggled figures. Her eyes lit up happily to see him but the boy was not reciprocating her enthusiasm.

"Newton!" she greeted the boy with a delighted beam.

"What happened?" he demanded almost angrily. "How in the bloody hell are you all still alive?"

"Oh, it's great to see you too, Newton," Cassandra said sarcastically. "Nah, don't worry about us. Only almost got killed by Grievers. Muscles hurt like shuck and haven't slept for a day, but is all peachy."

"Yeah, we missed you too, buddy," Minho added.

The blonde gave them a look that could freeze the blood in their veins rock solid. Thomas waved his hand in the air impatiently and walked forwards. "We'll explain later. We need to get Alby."

Newt's face went pale at the mention of his old friend. "What do you mean? He's alive?"

"Just come here."

He glanced back at Minho and Cassandra with a perplexed expression. Thomas craned his neck to look for the hiding spot he had strung Alby at, then stopped and pointed. They followed the direction his index finger indicated and barely saw the older boy's face peeking out of the dense leaves that covered the wall. Cassandra would have whistled if she knew how.

"I'll be shucked..." she chuckled. "You actually did it."

"Is he... alive?" Newt asked, aghast.

"I don't know... was when I left him up there," Thomas replied tiredly as he rubbed an eye.

"When _you_ left him..." Newt shook his head in disbelief. He had apparently had enough of all the absurdities. Everything that ever happened since she arrived in the Glade was just absurd. Newt told them to get their butts inside to get checked by the Med-jacks and an explanation ready once they were all rested up.

Cassandra had no desire to protest. She was so exhausted, she had no idea how she was still able to stand upright let alone move any one of her limbs. Thomas looked like he wanted to make sure that the de facto leader was really still breathing but Minho grabbed him forcefully and dragged him back into the Glade.

"We need sleep. And bandages. Now," he said with no room for argument.

She barely registered the stares of the other Gladers as they passed by, as if the three of them were living ghosts. Maybe they were. She didn't know anymore, her brain had finally shut down all its thought processes.

Clint was there to greet them at the Homestead, looking positively livid. She vaguely remembered pushing past him as she made her mad dash across the Glade and into the Maze. And just after recovering from a fever the night before as well. He wouldn't stop lecturing them about self-preservation but none of them really listened.

Everything was starting to blur together. There was a lot of groaning involved as the Med-jacks patched them up, force-fed them some food and water, then pushed them into rooms to rest. She shared a room with Minho since the last one was meant for Alby and they curled up on the narrow bed before immediately falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

 _The gun was heavy and felt out of place in her tiny palms. She fumbled with it and unlocked the safety catch on its side. Her hands shook as she slowly raised it in front of her._

 _"Hurry, Soyun, shoot him!"_

 _Her father was holding down another man to the ground. He had the squirming man's arms locked behind the back and held his head to the dirt. A younger boy sat on the man's legs, trying hard to keep them down._

 _She didn't recognise the man, didn't know him. Half his face was covered in painful pus-filled sores that oozed a thick yellow liquid down the sides. The man's eyes were bloodshot and wild with murderous frenzy as he gnashed his teeth together. Her heart thumped painfully against her small chest, as if it was on the verge of giving up altogether._

 _"Soyun!" her father called to her before lowering his voice coaxingly. "It's okay, sweetheart, it's okay. You can do it. Just aim and pull the trigger. Just like how I taught you."_

 _The number one rule, and the only thing that had kept them alive, was following her father's orders. She had learnt that a moment's hesitation could cost them their lives. So, she held the gun up and aimed it at the writhing man as he moaned like a wounded beast. Her finger trembled against the trigger and there was a loud bang._

 _The recoil sent her reeling backwards. There was a moment of silence, then she heard her father mumble a well done. The gun clattered for a second on the hard ground before lying still once more. She looked up at what she had done, at the life she had just taken in a blink of an eye, but the man's face had changed._

 _Her father stared up at her unblinkingly, a gaping hole between his eyes._

 _And a scream pierced through the air._


	36. DIONYSIACUS

**ACT I SCENE XXXVI  
DIONYSIACUS**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA STARTED AND FELT** the tears pool in her eyes. She blinked and they rolled down her cheeks onto the white bed sheets. A pair of strong arms tightened around her waist and Minho stirred behind her. She hastily wiped her face dry and felt his soft breath on the back of her neck. Frowning in confusion, she wondered how she had ended up in this position before everything slowly came back to her.

How long had they been asleep for? It felt like days had passed. Her body still felt exhausted and her muscles ached. Bright sunlight filtered in through the cracks of the curtains from the window and she could see the dust particles dancing in the still, humid air. She relaxed into Minho's warm hold, wondering when it became a normal occurrence to find herself in his arms. It made her feel like all was right in the world.

That didn't last long as a long drawn out scream erupted from the next room. Her body immediately went tense. Alby, she immediately realised; he was going through the Changing. Minho pulled her closer to him so that her back was flushed against his chest. She heard his voice in her ear, lips brushing against her skin. "It's started," he whispered.

Cassandra swallowed and nodded her head slowly as the screaming grew louder. Agonisingly louder. She wrapped her arms around Minho's over her waist and closed her eyes. They laid there until listening to Alby's tortured cries became too unbearable and set her teeth on edge. Slowly, she untangled herself from Minho's long limbs and stumbled off the bed. She tiptoed across the room and quietly opened the door.

The corridor outside was empty and shadows laid beyond in both directions. She could tell that nobody wanted to be near the Homestead right at that moment. Usually, there'd always be a commotion happening downstairs; now, not even Frypan's voice could be heard scolding boys for trying to steal food from the kitchen. She turned around to look at Minho and froze.

There shouldn't have been any reason for her to react that way. She'd seen plenty of the other boys take off their shirts before when the heat got too much. But she had never seen Minho take his shirt off before. When did he even had his shirt off?

She stared at his muscular toned chest and felt a blush creep up her neck to her cheeks when she realised she'd been sleeping on that the entire time. Smooth skin rippled across his abdomen and undulated with every breath he took. The boy looked at her quizzically before breaking out into the sauciest grin she had ever seen him wear.

"Like what you see?" he asked.

"No," she replied instinctively.

Cassandra quickly turned back around to avoid his gaze. She felt mortified and heard him snicker behind her. The heat in her cheeks intensified tenfold and she lost her ability to speak. Or to even think coherently. She wasn't sure whether she was in her own body.

"I'm gonna... uh, check on Alby."

Her lie was so obvious, Minho snorted at the very idea of it. She would never check on Alby in a billion years, even if someone gave her a lifetime's supply of casserole and a free trip to paradise.

Teetering on the edge of the threshold, she was about to take a step forward when Minho pulled her back into the room. She spun around and looked at him with wide horrified eyes. He pressed his lips together in a futile effort to hide his amusement. It danced merrily in his eyes, waving at her with every mischievous twinkle. Then he reached up to run his hand through her hair, dark strands slipping past his fingertips.

"I kinda like it short," he told her. "Makes you look less girly."

"Oh, cool... thanks," she replied lamely.

"Still can tell you're a girl though," he said. "You're so tiny. Especially your face, my hand is bigger than your face, Cassie."

He held his palm up and covered her face with it. She blinked dumbly. Something in her told her that the proper way to respond would be to swat his hand away and glare at him menacingly. But she couldn't, her heart was fluttering like a caged bird. His scent alone sent her nerve endings ablaze and she was hypersensitive to every point of contact his skin made with hers.

She tried to look anywhere and everywhere but her gaze eventually settled on his face. Minho let his hand fall to his side and looked back down at her with the barest hint of a smirk.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"Like what?"

"Like you wanna plant one on me."

"No, I'm not," she turned back around but he pulled her back once more.

It was like they were playing a game of cat and mouse. Apparently, she was the mouse and Minho was a very large cat that knew exactly what he was doing with his poor helpless prey. He was grinning widely at her now, eyes crinkling upwards. Cassandra knew she always fell right for his baits, and she hated it so much sometimes.

He reached up to push the hair from her face again, his fingers brushed across her cheek and sent her entire body tingling. She was at a lost. Why did she feel this way? What were these feelings? They didn't used to be there before.

"Cassie..."

Suddenly the door burst open with a loud slam that startled them both. She whipped her head around and found Thomas stumbling into the room clumsily. He took one look at them and started awkwardly fumbling for an apology. Cassandra stepped away from Minho and narrowed her eyes at the intruding boy, staring him down like a lioness assessing its prey. Minho crossed his arms and looked at him reproachfully.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he asked.

"Uh, you guys are out of bed too," Thomas looked at them blankly.

"Yeah, but we don't look like klunk."

There was a moment where Thomas scrutinised the both of them as if looking for a point to rebuke. He gave up after a while. Except for their sore limbs, aching backs and the odd bandage, she and Minho looked as fine as ever. Like they had simply gone for a leisurely stroll in the park. Thomas, on the other hand, was completely scraped, battered and bruised. She didn't think even one inch of his body was spared of injury.

"Is Alby going to be okay?" he asked worriedly. "Newt wouldn't let me see him. He said I'd just make it worse."

"No kidding," Minho barked out a humourless laugh. "Last time Cassie stepped in on Gally, he wouldn't stop freaking out. Never seen it happen before."

"Wait... is it because we're... different?" he asked.

Minho looked between the two of them then shook his head.

"You know what? Nevermind," he said before taking hold of her wrist. "Let's eat. I'm starving. You are too."

Cassandra's eyes lit up at the mention of food. She could devour the entire kitchen with how empty her stomach felt and darted out of the room, pulling Minho along with her instead. He managed to grab hold of Thomas who followed after them, much to her chagrin. Life and death situation over, she would have been comfortable going back to loathing him.

But she couldn't really find it in her to do that.

The boy looked so despondent and helpless, like a lost chick that fell out of its nest. She pushed the thought out of her head as quickly as it came and concentrated on reaching the kitchen. Frypan made some salted beef and noodles for them, which was one of her favourite dishes. They dug into their meals without restraint, scarfing the food down as fast as was physically possible. She imagined she must look utterly disgusting right then.

Minho suddenly let out a small groan of annoyance.

"I can see them staring at us," he rolled his eyes.

Thomas stopped with his fork full of noodles in the air. They followed Minho's gaze out the window to where a group of boys just stood there staring at them and speaking under their breaths to one another. When they finally noticed the three of them peering through the glass, they hastily scattered in different directions.

"Wow, that was so subtle," Cassandra commented sarcastically.

"They probably think we're some kinda heroes," Minho grunted derisively and turned back to his food.

"You're kidding, right?" Thomas looked at him in disbelief.

"Aw, don't be so humble," Minho said. "We killed four Grievers, man, that's awesome."

He didn't actually sound that enthused about it though.

"You mean you killed four Grievers. I would have been dead if you hadn't found me."

"You mean when Cassie ran off to find you, and I only got the idea after watching you do that wait-and-dive thingy," the boy shrugged and shoved another forkful of noodles into his mouth.

"Wait, what- you came back to find me?" Thomas gave her a baffled look.

"What?" she snapped. "I didn't do it for you, okay."

"Still... thanks," he told her sincerely.

She narrowed her eyes at him; a hint of a timid smile on his face. He really was grateful that they had come back for him and it made her feel immensely soft. Her lips twitched into a small grimace as she internally debated with herself. She could tell that Minho was watching her expectantly from the side, and turned her head away from them.

"Whatever," she said then mumbled out quickly. "You're welcome."

But they heard her clearly enough. A wide beam broke out over Thomas' face while Minho turned to hide his own triumphant smile. She glanced at them, scowling lightly, before setting her attention back on her food. They started on another helping when Chuck came running in to greet them. The small boy was literally bouncing from excitement.

"You guys are the talk of the town!" he told them.

"Slim it, man," Minho shook his head. "We didn't do anything."

"Are you freaking kidding me?! You guys survived a night in the Maze and killed four Grievers!" the young boy exclaimed. "This ain't the time to be all humbly-bumbly! C'mon! You guys just made history last night!"

"Yeah, then why do I still feel so crappy, Chuck? Tell me that," Thomas set his fork down and looked at the boy pointedly. He'd only been there for- what? Three or four days now? And everything was a complete mess.

Cassandra looked at him as he searched Chuck's face for some kind of answer. The kid fidgeted where he stood and hung his head to stare at the ground. After a while, Minho spoke, his gaze far away.

"The same reason we all feel crappy, dude."

The tension in the air was thick and palpable. Luckily enough, Newt walked into the kitchen just then to disperse it. His face was drained of all colour and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked as if he had joined the night with them in the Maze. Cassandra looked up at his approach and held her hand out to beckon him over. He fell into the empty chair next to Thomas and rubbed his face tiredly with a hand.

"I think the worst is over," he said gravely. "The bugger'll be sleeping for the next couple of days and wake up fine. Maybe some screaming in between."

"That's great," Cassandra said mostly for their sakes. "He'll be fine."

Newt looked at her and nodded his head. Thomas started asking them questions again, this time about the Changing, but none of them actually knew what it was. No one else who went through the Changing would talk about it, but they all ended up different. Like Nick with his creepy vacant stares, and now Gally with his surlier than usual attitude. She wondered what Alby was going to be like. He'd probably make her life even more hellish.

The conversation started to turn towards the other girl who was still stuck in a coma. She wondered why she still couldn't recognise her. Where had WICKED been hiding her? Could she possibly be the same as Cassandra? Was she another experiment?

Her heart went out to the girl even though she knew nothing about her.

"Anyway," Newt said crisply, drawing their attention back to him. "We need to figure out what to do with Tommy here."

"Do with me? What're you talking about?" Thomas looked at him in alarm.

"Turned this whole place upside down, ya bloody shank," Newt stretched his arms above his head and grunted out an incredulous laugh. "Half the Gladers think you're God, and the other half wanna throw your butt down the Box Hole. Lots to discuss."

"Like what? Why just me? Cassandra went in too," Thomas pointed his fork at the girl.

"Patience, you'll find out tomorrow at wake-up," Newt told him. "Besides, we already did this with Cass, and she's a Runner anyway. She didn't break any rules, except the rule of common sense."

"Hey!" she protested, kicking him lightly under the table.

"Tomorrow?"

"I've called a Gathering, and you'll be there. You're the only buggin' thing on the agenda."

Thomas looked at him in bewilderment, but the blonde boy was already getting up. He walked away and left them to their thoughts once again.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

(documentary voice) And in this chapter, Cassandra finally starts having strange feelings for Minho. Who knew all he had to do was to take off his shirt?

Also, realised that he went to the kitchen without it :D Such a rebel.

Please review so you could be the lucky winner of Minho's lost shirt!


	37. THESEUS

**ACT I SCENE XXXVII  
THESEUS**

* * *

 **"C'MON, CASSIE, GET UP."**

Someone poked her in the side and of course it was Minho. She reached her arm out to swat him away but missed, so she flailed it around in the air instead. He grabbed hold of her wrist and tugged a little too roughly. Cassandra felt her stomach lurched as she almost slid off the edge of her hammock and let out a shriek. He hastily clamped a hand against her mouth but the damage had already been done. The boys around them muttered angry curses under their breaths as they slowly started to rouse from their sleep from the rude awakening.

Cassandra and Minho exchanged looks before breaking out into giggles like tiny misbehaving children. She swung her feet towards the ground and stretched her arms high into the air, back arching in a neat curve. The Runner watched her with barely constrained agitation.

"Cassie, hurry up!" he tapped his foot on the ground impatiently.

"For what?" she looked at him, flabbergasted.

"The Gathering!"

"Huh?" she scrunched her face up and gave him a weird look.

"Don't 'huh' me," he imitated her expression. "Did you forget already? Newt's calling for us to get our butts to the Council room right now."

"Me too?" she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Am I... part of the Council now?"

"Wow, Cassie, you are slow as shuck sometimes," he shook his head.

"I thought that was just a one time thing!" she started to argue but they didn't have the time to waste. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Give me a couple of minutes!"

She got off the hammock then ran towards the bathroom to quickly brush her teeth and wash her face. Minho was still waiting for her when she returned and they made their way to the back of the Homestead. Right before they turned the corner towards the room, he pulled her to a stop and she looked back at him questioningly as he bit his bottom lip.

"I did some thinking last night," he told her. "And I think I should let you hear it first."

She stared at him in concern. "Okay...?"

"Newt's gonna make us all give a recommendation on what to do with Thomas, and I decided what mine was going to be," he took a deep breath and steeled himself. "I'm gonna ask them to make him Keeper of the Runners."

The silence that hung in the air between them was thick and alive. It wrapped around their bodies like a blanket, the tension squeezing at every breath they took. Cassandra finally forced out a laugh, cheeks rising to meet cold brown eyes.

"Very funny, Minho," she said before turning around.

He pulled her back again and she heaved a heavy sigh. Minho turned her around slowly by the shoulders and gave her a long meaningful look. Her mouth was turned downwards in an unhappy frown, her hair still a mess from waking up in a rush. She looked like the very embodiment of the phrase 'ruffled feathers' and it made his lips twitch at the corners.

"Cassie, I know you don't like the guy," he spoke softly and pulled her closer. "But you were there too, you know what we did and you saw what he's capable of. I don't think they'll make him Keeper, but if I make it sound good enough, they could make him a Runner. We need guys like him, Cassie. We need people shucking dumb enough to run out into the Maze just before the Doors close."

"Hey!" she protested but he was smirking.

"Please, Cassie," he pleaded. "Back me up on this."

"Uh-uh," she shook her head fervently. "You know I can't do that, Minho. Anyone else, _maybe_. But this... this is too much."

"C'mon, at least give the shank a chance to prove himself," he told her. "I don't think he's really a bad guy. Doesn't seem like one."

She continued shaking her head, there wasn't anything else she had to say to him except no. No way. No shucking way in every bloody ring of hell. When her own thoughts started sounding like that, she knew she'd been saturated with Minho and Newt.

The boy continued to beseech her with his eyes but she kept her lips in a thin line. Usually, it would have worked like a charm but she couldn't do this.

She needed more time.

Without another word, Cassandra spun on her heel and quickly made her way to the Council room. He didn't stop her. She opened the door to find that everyone was already gathered there, even Thomas. He sat in the middle of the room facing the entire Council like he was sat on trial. Which was kind of like that actually.

She took a seat on the very last chair of the semi circle near the door and Minho stepped inside a second later to slump down in the seat next to her. Both of them refused to make eye contact with the other, finding some hidden fascination within the cracked stone floor.

"Right, now that everyone's _finally_ here," Newt threw a dirty look at them. "In place of our leader, sick in bed, I declare this Gathering begun."

He rolled his eyes as if it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever said. There was only one empty seat next to Newt which, she guessed, must belong to Alby. With a sudden realisation, she wondered if she had just taken Nick's place in the Council. He hadn't been a Keeper, just like her, and he'd been a Runner too. The similarity made her shiver as she thought back to the boy.

It was apparent that Newt was in no mood that morning to be trifled with and begun to set some ground rules. No one was allowed to speak until it was their turn or they were going to get their butts kicked into the Maze but it didn't seem like Gally understood a word he was saying. Cassandra leaned back against her chair and crossed her arms, content on just listening. She already had her mind made up anyway.

"Alright," Newt started with a clear voice. "So reason we're here is because almost every lovin' kid in the Glade has come up to me in the last day or two either boo-hooing about Thomas or beggin' to take his bloody hand in marriage. We need to decide what we're gonna do with him."

He gestured to his right, and Zart was the first to state his opinions. The tall hulking boy stood up and shrugged his broad shoulders. His eyes seemed particularly droopier and he looked like he was about to faint from boredom.

"I don't know. He broke our Number One rule, so we can't let people know that's okay," he said. "But... he did save Alby and he survived a night out in the Maze. Now we know we can beat the Grievers too."

"Oh, give me a break!" Gally exclaimed. "I bet Minho and Cassandra were the ones who did all the work."

"Shut your hole, Gally!" Newt whipped around angrily. "Or do you want me to arrange another Banishing that badly?"

Gally muttered scornfully under his breath before slumping back into his chair. Frypan went next and pretty much praised Thomas for being so brave and actually recommended to put him on the Council. It didn't seem to be a very popular opinion as the others immediately broke out in heated dissent before getting shut down by Newt.

Winston stood up right after; he was less than impressed and recommended punishing Thomas with a week in the Slammer, which earned applause from Gally. Clint was the only one who agreed with Frypan, and told them they needed to learn from Thomas' example. Jackson and Matt were on Gally's side, and Joey was pretty much indifferent about everything.

Finally, Newt reached the other side of the row where it was just Gally, Minho and Cassandra left. The girl gave a small sigh of relief that it was going to be over soon and her eyes glanced to Thomas briefly. The entire time the Keepers had been suggesting what to do with him; he'd been behaving himself obediently. A muscle in his jaw twitched though when he noticed it was now Gally's turn.

"Just think for one second," Gally tapped an index finger to his temple. "This slinthead comes up the Box, acting all scared and confused. Few days later, he's running through the Maze with Grievers, acting like he owns the place. That's shucking bullcrap."

Cassandra frowned in thought. What he said was true, and yet... hadn't it been similar to her own situation when she first arrived in the Glade? Well, she hadn't killed any Grievers during her first week there, but she had certainly caused a commotion. She suddenly felt as if she could relate to Thomas and it made her uncomfortable.

"I think it was all an act," he went on. "How could he have done what he did out there in just a few days if he was really clueless? You all remember what it was like coming out of the Box. I ain't buyin' it."

Newt sighed once more. "And what're you tryin' to say, Gally? How 'bout having a bloody point?"

"I think he's a spy. For _them_ ," the burly boy flicked his glare to Thomas, who shifted agitatedly in his seat. He continued to keep his silence for the time being though.

"What?! You're smokin' cow klunk!" Frypan exclaimed.

"Really, Fry?" Gally raised his eyebrows. "You sayin' this shank magically knew all about the Maze? I've gone through the Changing; I've seen things none of you could ever imagine seeing!"

"What exactly did you see?" Winston asked, his voice calm and even, almost surgical.

"I saw him," the Builder pointed to the boy in question. "He was _with_ them. Working for them. Isn't that right, Cassandra?"

He turned to address her but she merely stared back stonily. Everyone already knew about her memories of Thomas, yet she couldn't manage to nod her head or open her mouth to say yes. Something just didn't sit right and she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"We all know Cass' story," Frypan replied for her. "That still don't make him some kinda spy. Dude, that's like jacked up."

"Which part of all this is _normal_ , Fry?" Gally shot back. "Does that slinthead look normal to you?!"

The room erupted with another round of arguments and it took a little longer for Newt to get them to settle down again but the Builder wasn't done. He continued listing down all the weird things Thomas had done, or that had happened around him. Then at last, he recommended locking him up in the Slammer for a month pending review.

Cassandra wanted to dash her head against the wall.

"Finished, Captain Gally?" Newt asked scathingly.

"No, I'm not," Gally retorted. "If you'd stop jumping the gun for one second, Newt, and actually think, you'll see it too. There's nothing right about that shank. When Cassandra came up the Box recognising everyone, you were all ready to throw her in the Slammer when she hadn't even done anything. Now you're treating this shuckface like a hero? You and I both know that's not right. Are you just gonna sit there and ignore the warnings? You better think long and hard before you let him run around out there again."

Exhaling heavily, he lowered himself back into his seat as a sign that he was done. With a look of utter relief, Newt quickly called for Minho to go next. Cassandra turned her focus on him but he stood up so quickly, it took most of them by surprise again. He had a hard look on his face, his eyes cold as ice and his jaw set in a tight line.

"I was out there, I saw what he did," he started, looking resolutely around him. "The shank has guts, I'll tell you that. He stayed strong out there while I turned into a panty wearin' chicken. I'm gonna make this simple so here's my recommendation."

He paused to lick his lips as everyone watched him with grim concentration. She only had a split second to decide on what she was going to do but her mind had gone conveniently void. It seemed like nothing would stop Minho from saying what he had in mind.

So she lowered her head and let him.

"I nominate this shank to replace me as Keeper of the Runners."

Stunned silence settled over the Council to match the expressions on all their faces. Then Gally, of course it would have been Gally, stood up furiously. He pointed at Minho and started yelling with a vein throbbing on his forehead.

"He should be kicked off the Council for saying something so stupid!"

"Gally, seriously, shut the bloody hell up!"

Then everyone was frantically clamouring over each other. Jackson and Winston were with Gally, disagreeing loudly from the other side. Frypan clapped his hands to drown them out as he supported Minho's suggestion. To Cassandra's utter dismay, a few of the others were nodding their heads in agreement as well. She bit her tongue in an effort to keep quiet but her resolve was slowly crumbling away.

"I've never seen so many shanks actin' like tit-suckin' babies!" Newt exclaimed then threatened to disband the Council unless everyone started acting like proper adults again. He turned towards Minho and told the Keeper that he had to defend his proposal. Sighing wearily, the Runner started once more.

"We left him out there to fend for himself," he told them. "I'm the Keeper of the Runners but I lost all hope the moment those shuck Doors closed on us. But not Thomas though, the idiot kept trying to get us to do something to survive the night. If Cassie hadn't gone back to get him, it'd probably have been sheer luck for me to bump into him again. And it was thanks to that shank's shucking ideas that got us all through to the next morning."

She thought that he was laying it on real thick with the praise and found herself grumbling about it in her mind.

"We get the point," Gally snapped. "Tommy here is a lucky shank."

Minho turned on him bitterly. "No, you worthless shuck, you don't get it! I've been here for two years and I haven't seen anything like it. For you to say anything..."

He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning loudly in frustration. Cassandra watched him with interest; it was always a sight whenever Minho got riled up. The boy dropped his hand to his side and started again in a calmer voice.

"Gally... you're nothin' but a sissy who only asked to be a Runner 'cause Cassie got made one. You don't have a right to talk about things you don't understand. So shut your damn mouth."

The taller boy rose from his seat, eyes gleaming with rage. "Say one more thing like that, and I'll break your neck!" he threatened, spit flying as he spoke.

Minho looked away scornfully and laughed in disbelief. He raised his hand before shoving his palm right into Gally's face. It had enough force to send the boy falling onto his chair, which tipped backwards and fell to the floor.

Gally crashed along with it; sprawled on his front against the hard ground. He scrambled to get up, his face a flaming red that reached up to the tips of his ears. Minho walked over and planted his foot onto the boy's back to pin him there.

"I swear, Gally," he sneered. "Don't ever threaten me again, or I'll break _your_ shuck neck. Right after I'm done with your arms and legs."

Cassandra wanted to feel bad for Gally but Minho looked so attractive asserting his dominance like that and she found herself smiling at it.

Wait, where the heck did that thought come from?

Newt and Winston had gotten up to restrain the Runner. Gally sprung up immediately once Minho was off him and he glared at the boy with burning hatred. He looked like he wanted to fight back but chose to back away towards the door instead, eyes darting around the room madly.

"Things are different now," he spat on the floor. "You shouldn't have done that, Minho. You _shouldn't_ have done that. We're all going to be shucked now because none of you will see reason. You've landed in the palm of his hand! But I'm not going to let him. He's not going to trick me..."

He continued to ramble on, throwing contempt at the others in the room before threatening to kill Thomas if he had to. All they could do was stare at him pitifully, not even his friends knew what to do with him.

"Things are going to change. This, I promise," Gally repeated once more. "And then you'll all be sorry."

He slammed the door behind him, leaving them in another moment of numb shock. Cassandra's eyes were wide open as she continued to stare at the spot where the boy had been just a minute ago. It was official. Gally had gone off the deep end. Was he going to go mad like how Ben had after all?

"He's finally whacked for good," Minho whispered.

"Well, you're not exactly the bloody saint in the room," Newt rounded on him. "What were you thinking? That was a little overboard, don't ya think?"

Minho raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't give me that klunk. You all loved seeing that slinthead get his dues, and you know it."

"Hang on," Newt raised his hands. "You've been dead quiet this whole time, Cass. What's your opinion on this shuck mess?"

She looked up sharply at the mention of her name and her eyes widened with nervous apprehension. Everyone turned to look at her expectantly, as if her judgement would be that final deciding factor. Minho glanced her way before quickly averting his gaze to the ground again. A sharp ache stabbed at her chest and she drew a quick breath. Newt chased her for an answer but her thoughts had become a large jumbled ball of nonsense.

Should she really trust her instincts? Gally had pretty much said every bad thing there was to say about Thomas, but just look at that shank. He looked like he was going into cardiac arrest soon; _totally_ reminiscent of evil. She cursed Gally for making her doubt herself then thought about Minho and all the times he'd been on her side.

His gaze drifted her way again and she barely managed to catch hold of it. She inhaled deeply, letting the air fill up her lungs. Her insides felt like one gigantic mess of blah as she stared into his captivating dark brown eyes, then the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could even think of stopping them.

"I trust Minho. I agree with whatever he says."

Of all the dumbfounded looks that were sent her way, she thought Thomas' was the best of them all. The boy's jaw hung wide open as he stared wordlessly at what she just said. She wished she could have taken a picture. It was priceless.

Newt snapped them out of it again and finally revealed his own recommendation. One day in the Slammer and elected to be Runner effective immediately. There really was no use in arguing any further on the matter; it sounded as good a plan as any. Everyone voted for his idea, except for Winston, who seemed to like playing devil's advocate for them.

Minho walked over and pulled Cassandra up to stand. He beamed at her gratefully, which she returned meekly. With a smile like that, he could ask her to jump off the Cliff and she would probably do it. Why did she keep having thoughts like that? It was ridiculous. They turned to Thomas, who still looked pretty baffled at the sudden turn of events. Minho punched him in the arm, which made him jump.

"This shank," he laughed.

Thomas punched back. "Keeper? Really? You're nuttier than Gally by a long shot."

Minho faked an evil grin. "Worked, didn't it? Aim high, hit low. Thank me later."

"No, he won't," Cassandra interjected. "I'm not letting you go easy on him."

"Yeah, you shanks go off and be a happy family together," Newt snorted at them.

Just then there was a knock on the door and it swung open to reveal Chuck. Sweat gleamed all over his face as he wrung his hands nervously while waiting for them to take notice of him.

"Chuck?" Cassandra called curiously.

"Med-jacks sent me," he said, his voice barely above a mumble.

"What's wrong?" she frowned.

"Must be Alby, thrashing around actin' all crazy wanting to talk to someone," Newt said, standing up. He made his way towards the door but stopped when Chuck raised a hand.

"Um... he doesn't want you."

Newt looked at him with a mixture of confusion and irritation. "What do you mean?"

The kid pointed at Thomas. "He keeps asking for him."

Cassandra turned to look at the boy, as did everyone else. Thomas' face fell as he realised what was happening.

"Here we go again," she rolled her eyes with a sigh.


	38. MINÔS

**ACT I SCENE XXXVIII  
MINÔS**

* * *

 **THEY WANDERED OUT** **OF** the gathering room one by one. Thomas and Newt left to check on Alby while the rest of the Keepers went back to their specific duties. Minho looked at his watch and gave a small sigh. She kicked at the ground idly, not knowing what to do with herself, torn between her own job and the safety of the Glade. A hand touched her elbow gently and she turned to look at Minho. He had a small smile on his handsome face and his brown eyes looked at her softly.

There she goes again with the unnecessary observations.

"Thanks," he told her. "I appreciate what you did in there."

She frowned slightly, drawing her lips into a thin line. "I think Gally did all the work for me already."

"No kidding," he grunted. "Are you gonna stay in the Glade?"

Looking down, she nodded her head and felt a pang of regret. She sorely wanted to go out into the Maze with him but she felt that she had to stay. There were too many things happening and she wanted to be there to make sure nothing went horribly wrong.

Actually, she wanted Minho to stay with her too but she knew that wouldn't do. He belonged out there while she was just a piece of flotsam caught out in the currents.

"I'll be back before you know it," he gave her arm a squeeze. "Don't start anything without me."

She took his hand and held it in hers for a moment. "Stay safe," she told him. Minho gave her his best smirk, dimples and all, before heading towards the North Door. His fingers slipped away from hers as she watched him leave. He turned and gave her a wave at the mouth of the entrance, which she returned, and stood there until his back shrank out of view.

With a heavy feeling in her chest, she turned around and walked in the direction of the kitchen. Frypan immediately gave her a bunch of stuff to do since the Gathering had set him back behind schedule. She grabbed a frying pan and set it on the stove then struck a match to light it. The fire crackled cheerily as she poured some oil onto the pan. Ed was plucking more sunflower seeds on the counter behind her and she giggled when he gave her a despairing look.

A group of boys walked in, talking loudly, just as she started to sauté the vegetables. They were talking about Gally and she immediately went into eavesdropping mode. Apparently, the Builder had taken off after his unceremonious departure from the Gathering. They said they had seen him run into the Maze. She frowned incredulously at that as she took the pan off the stove and set the vegetables aside.

News of Thomas' election as Runner had also started to spread around the Glade. She guessed it couldn't be helped, these boys were worse than old fishwives. Cassandra glanced up as Frypan approached and asked her to get some more meat from the Blood House.

Sighing inwardly, she walked out of the kitchen towards the Gardens. She didn't see Newt amongst the Trackhoes in the fields so she guessed he must still be with Alby. She passed through the square of maize plantation and towards the Blood House. Winston looked up at her boredly when she found him sitting against the fence of the goat pens.

"Hey, Winston," she greeted the boy. "Fry wants some fresh beef. Have some minced up too."

"Sure," he said airily. "I'll get Jack to send some up later."

"'Kay, cool..." she turned to walk away when he called for her to wait. He looked at her with a puzzled expression, as if he didn't quite understand that she was a living breathing human being standing right in front of him.

"Why'd you do that? Back in the Gathering," he asked her. "We thought you hated Thomas."

"Oh..." she frowned. She didn't think it would come as that big of a shock to them. "He survived a night in the Maze and Minho recommended him. I'm not going against my Keeper."

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow dubiously. "You saw Thomas in your dreams just like how Gally saw him in the Changing. And you were suspicious of the guy from day one. So what changed?"

"I..." her frown grew deeper."I don't know. You were there, you heard Minho defend the shank. I trust Minho; I'll do whatever he asks me to do."

 _What changed?_

Winston's question continued to roll around in her mind. She felt any and all the answers she could come up with were just flimsy excuses compared to the real one- something that she still didn't have. But it did make her think about Gally and the way he acted like a complete lunatic, threatening to kill people.

She didn't want to turn into that.

Winston merely closed his eyes and shrugged, so she took that as her cue to leave. She finally spotted Newt on her way back to the Homestead. He was walking across the Glade towards the Grove with Thomas beside him. She wondered what they were up to, but she was sure that Newt would let her know once he was done.

Darting back into the kitchen, she went to wash up the dishes left in the sink. Frypan came back again and passed a bowl of soup and mashed potatoes into her hands, then told her to go feed the comatose girl upstairs. Grumbling under her breath, she headed for the med-bay. The boards creaked under the weight of her footsteps as she ascended the stairs. It was dark on the landing of the corridor and she almost tripped over herself.

She found the right room and sat herself down on the empty chair. Clint must have stepped out for a while since he wasn't anywhere to be seen. The dark haired girl looked as unconscious as the last time she had seen her. She kept mumbling things under her breath that Cassandra couldn't quite make out, but she always said one thing with perfect clarity in her voice. Thomas.

What was Thomas to this girl?

Cassandra couldn't help but wonder whether there were any similarities she could find between the two of them. Other than them being girls, that is. Did she share a connection with Thomas like how she did with Minho? The very thought fascinated her and she wished she could know more.

She stacked the pillows as high as they would go and pulled the girl up to a semi sitting position. Then she took a spoonful of soup and started feeding it to her. The girl swallowed everything that went down her throat easily enough.

Clint returned a moment later. He took the girl's pulse and temperature, then wrote everything down on a little notepad. When he was done, he asked Cassandra if she heard the girl talking about anything weird while he was gone but she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

She continued feeding the girl until the bowl was empty and set it down on the bedside table. Then she leaned back against her chair, crossed her arms and rested her face on a fist in silent contemplation.

"Still nothing, huh?" Clint asked her.

Cassandra shook her head. "It's the weirdest thing. I can't put my finger on it, but... I keep getting the feeling that she's the same as me."

"You mean like the whole remembering and freaking out stuff?" he raised his eyebrows. "Great, just what we needed."

She snorted out a laugh at that. "No, not like that. Something else, but I don't know what."

The door creaked open a minute later and Newt walked in, followed by Thomas, and they each grabbed an extra chair to sit on. Clint was dismissed after reporting the girl's condition. She asked about Alby and Newt clued her in on the boy strangling himself for trying to talk about what he saw during the Changing. It was the same old story all over again. Thomas had been staring at the sleeping girl on the bed the entire time as if he was enchanted.

"I think I do know her..." he said hesitantly after a long while. "From somewhere, but I don't-"

He paused suddenly, forehead wrinkling with a frown. Newt urged him to go on but he kept looking about the room in alarm. Cassandra sat at the edge of her seat. "What is it?" she asked anticipatorily.

"Did you just say something?" he looked at her. "Before, did you speak?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Then what... I swore I heard a voice," he continued turning his head around until his eyes fell back to the girl once more. "Teresa."

"Eh? Is that her name? Must've sprung from your bloody memory blocks!" Newt exclaimed happily. "You remembered something, good on ya!"

"Are you sure-" Thomas started before jumping up from his seat. He stumbled backwards, tripping over his chair in the process and slamming into the wall. "She just spoke to me! In my head! She's freaking talking to me!"

"What?" Cassandra snapped sharply and stood up as well. She looked down to the girl then back to Thomas.

"Tommy, sit your butt down. What are you talking about?" Newt looked at him worriedly.

"I swear I just heard her say my name!" Thomas gestured to the bed. His face had gone deathly pale and his breathing was starting to get erratic. "It was a voice in my head, but not really like a voice. But it _was_."

"Thomas, slim it," she raised a hand but he hadn't heard her, his eyes kept darting around the room nervously. He pressed his hands to his ears and shut his eyes, face scrunched up with effort to block out the voice in his head. Then he leapt towards the door and made a run for it.

"Hey, wait!" she hurried after him.

She continued to call his name as she chased the boy but he didn't stop. He just continued running across the Glade, towards the Doors. She screamed his name one last time before stopping at the edge of the threshold. Cassandra watched as Thomas rounded a corner at the end of the corridor and disappeared into the Maze.


	39. MELEAGROS

**ACT I SCENE XXXIX  
MELEAGROS**

* * *

 **NEWT LIMPED OVER** a couple of moments later; looking absolutely bewildered, and turned to her for an explanation. She couldn't exactly give him one, but she could take a guess at what had happened. Thomas and the girl could talk in each other's minds. Telepathy.

Spooky stuff.

She tried to remember when was the last time she heard voices in her head. It was a relief to confirm that she hadn't been insane all along. She wondered why no one else had this ability. What made the three of them special little snowflakes?

Then she lamented at the thought that she couldn't communicate with Minho anytime and anywhere she wanted to. Newt suddenly turned to her as if he just realised something.

"He went into the buggin' Maze!" he cried out. "Why didn't you go in after him?"

She shrugged her shoulders and looked out into the stone corridor with its labyrinthine structure that surrounded them. The ivy looked particularly unruly that day, twisting and climbing up the looming walls from the dark crevices.

It was true; if it had been any other boy- even Gally- she would have run in after them, tackle their butt to the ground and drag them back to the Glade. But Thomas was different. She had seen it, but she'd been too tired to think hard about it then.

His body knew what it was doing even before his mind did. He knew how to navigate the Maze without Minho having to lead him. It was uncanny, and it was also another thing to add to the long list that set him apart from the rest of the Gladers.

Thomas, the Golden Boy.

The pet name gave her mind a little jolt and she clearly remembered having called him that before. It all came flooding back to her like an overflowing dam and her head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. More of the puzzle pieces started clicking back into place.

She remembered the times he came to visit her with snacks and the odd book he managed to spirit away. The times he helped nurse her back to health when her body went past its limit, and stroked her back when she had an episode. He was always watching out for her, keeping the others in line.

And that despite the resentment she held for WICKED and everything associated with it, Thomas had been there to make sure that she was being cared for. Somehow, strangely, he had been... a friend.

He used to talk about Teresa all the time.

"Oh, my God," she groaned, shutting her eyes tight. "I am the biggest shuck-face in the entire universe!"

Newt looked at her in exasperation. "What is it this time?"

"I've had it all wrong, Newton!" she turned to him. "Thomas never did anything to harm me. He was actually looking out for me; he made sure the others wouldn't go overboard with the experiments! Him and the girl- Teresa- the both of them. They _made_ this place."

He eyed her warily. Usually whenever anyone started spouting off stuff about the past, the consequences have always been far from pleasant. He took a moment to make sure she wouldn't go into another screaming fit, and then another one to digest what she had just said.

"So what you're saying is... they put us here two years ago and now they decided to join us?"

"Uh... I wouldn't phrase it like that," she said. "But it's what I remember. I've never seen the girl because she didn't have a reason to see me. Thomas always took care of me. But the both of them..."

They were all subjects now. Her shoulders drooped at the realisation and she shook her head in disappointment. They wouldn't be able to remember the solution to the Maze, and Cassandra wouldn't know it even though memories kept coming back to her. It was like no matter what happened, they always came back to square one.

"Shuck, I don't know, Newt," her expression looked like she was about to cry. "My head's all messed up inside."

"Hey," he reached out and squeezed her arm. "Don't worry yourself to death 'bout it. I don't need anyone else runnin' into the Maze like bloody spazzes on my watch."

She cracked a smile at that. He told her to go get some rest or do something to get her mind off things. In the end, she followed him back to the Gardens and helped weed a little. Not long after that, she found herself sitting on a crate and mending holes in the boys' clothes. How typical, she groused to herself, as if two years hadn't taught them anything new.

The shadows started lengthening along the edges of the Glade and she was losing light. Cassandra set the clothes aside and raised her knee up to rest her elbow on, then leaned back against her other hand. Seeing her stop, the boys took that as a cue to pack their things up.

Newt joined her perch on the box and they waited just like old times. Lee came back first, then Scott, and Archie. The Runners all made a beeline to their rendezvous point in the Map Room. Minho was always the last to get back when she waited on him. It was like he knew, and did it on purpose to make her worry.

Her concern was always unfounded as the Keeper came back, dripping with sweat yet managing to look impeccable at the same time. How was that even possible?

Minho jogged over to them and she immediately told him what had happened while he was away. He looked between her and Newt as the both of them recounted their day. She spotted Thomas returning through the West Door and headed straight for the Grove. Not more than five minutes later, the Walls started to roll shut and Newt left them to check on the boy.

She stared off at the darkening sky and didn't realise Minho had leaned in close to her until his breath tickled her skin. Cassandra turned to find him incredibly close and the urge to lean in took her by surprise.

Before, she had always found his presence to be comforting; the reassuring warmth of his hand made her feel safe but now it was different. He made her nervous, her heart kept skipping beats and her nerve endings fired sparks through her veins.

Minho looked at her with his lips curled up at the side.

"Admit it," he said cockily. "I was right."

She figured he meant Thomas, and she rolled her eyes with a small smile on her face.

"You were right," she assented.

"Maybe you could tell him you're sorry," he raised his eyebrows briefly.

She forced a laugh. "We're not going there yet."

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I can wait." He took a seat next to her on the box, shoulder rubbing against hers, and her body tingled at the contact but she forced herself to ignore it. Then he was taking her hand and her breath caught in her chest against her will. Her body tensed as Minho paused to look at her.

"You okay?" he frowned worriedly.

She nodded her head quickly, her voice coming out breathless. "Yeah, good. Fine."

He looked at her for a long moment, as if trying to read her mind. Then a smirk slowly spread across his face again and her heart almost sputtered to a stop. His fingertips crawled across her palm before slowly slipping between her fingers and drawing lazy circles with his thumb on top of hers.

She bit her bottom lip, eyes wide, as she stared back at his smug face. Her hand felt like a live wire sending currents of electricity to the pit of her stomach, every muscle in her body was locked and coiled.

Her heart started to race inside her chest as Minho leaned forwards so that their faces were literally just an inch apart. She could suddenly take in his heady scent; sweat, musk, and grass. His eyes were dark and heavy as he gazed into her own. She let out the breath she didn't realise she was holding and gasped softly for air.

"What are you two doing?"

She sprung away from Minho, whipping her head around and snatching her hand away from his. The Keeper turned around calmly to find Newt returning. He had an exasperated look on his face, an expression that he wore quite often nowadays. Cassandra's face felt like a hot furnace as she adamantly looked away from them and pretended that nothing had happened. Oh, look, what a pretty patch of weeds.

"Where's Thomas?" Minho cocked his head in question.

"Sleepin' like a wee babe," Newt replied. "Thought I'd just leave him there. He looks way too comfortable."

They exchanged another one of their silent conversations. Cassandra was so used to it now, she could pretty much guess at what they were trying to communicate to one another. The rush of blood to her face left her cheeks flushed and her eyelashes fluttered nervously over her preoccupied eyes.

"Cassie?"

She turned reflexively to look at him. His face was an unreadable smooth mask and her stomach did a somersault. The things she felt for him made her want to cry from frustration. She didn't even know what any of it meant.

"What?" she raised an eyebrow.

"You coming in for dinner?" he asked.

"Oh. Yeah, sure," she slid off the cargo box and followed them back to the Homestead. After eating, she made her way to the hammock tent. The air felt chilly that night and she wrapped a warm woollen blanket around her shoulders. She picked up another one and headed back out to the middle of the Glade.

She crossed the empty field and entered the dark recesses of the Grove. Her shoes crunched over dried leaves and soil, reminding her of the first time she went in here with Minho. She remembered being afraid of the shadows but she knew every inch of the Glade inside and out now. Sliding her hand against the smooth stone surface of the Wall, she walked along its length for a few good metres before stopping.

Thomas leaned against the side with his head lolled to the left, mouth hanging wide open. He looked ridiculous. She bent down and unfurled the blanket to on top of him. The boy snorted, jerking suddenly before settling back into a sound sleep.

She stood there, hugging herself tightly and watched the boy in quiet contemplation. Her mind felt like it was filled with white noise, and only a single thought permeated through the static.

 _What changed?_


	40. ERIS

**ACT I SCENE XL  
** **ERIS**

* * *

 **SHE FELT THE BRIGHT GLOW** of dawn through her eyelids but she refused to wake up just yet. The grass underneath brushed against her exposed skin as she shifted and buried her head in something soft with a sigh. Cassandra tried to recall exactly when she had snuck a pillow out of the Homestead when there was a soft chuckle accompanied by a tremor under her.

"That tickles."

She ripped her eyelids open and looked up to find Minho grinning back. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, her face pressed against his chest. This was not what she expected to wake up to and pushed herself away with a strangled cry, feeling completely embarrassed for being caught in such an outrageous position.

She rolled about a foot away from him before stopping and looking back in horror. He was still grinning at her, dimples in his cheeks and eyes curving upwards with barely contained amusement. Then he held his hand out.

"Aw, come back, Cassie," he called.

"No!" She rolled further away and Minho started guffawing at her antics. Her back bumped into Newt, who woke up with a start and looked at her blearily.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Uh. Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" she forced a grin.

He looked behind her at Minho lying flat on the ground in loud whooping laughter. "I don't wanna know," he groaned and turned over to his other side. Cassandra sighed and sat up to shoot Minho a disapproving glare before making a run for it to the bathroom.

She had a shower, hoping the heat in her cheeks would evaporate into the air together with the steam then put on a new sleeveless black top and brown pants she found in a cargo box. It wasn't her fault that he slept so close to her all the time. Who asked him to have such a comfortable wide toned chest? And that stupid face with those adorable dimples, she continued to grumble in her head as she laced up her shoes.

Cassandra pushed the door open with unnecessary force and thumped down the steps from the bathroom. She turned the corner to head back to the Homestead when someone pulled her behind the building. Her back was pressed against the flimsy wooden planks and she looked up into brown eyes that made her heart sputter to an abrupt stop.

Minho's lips twitched as he tried to control his smirk then he leaned down closely, resting a hand against the wall next to her head with the other holding on to her wrist. She could feel her own pulse drumming against his thumb.

"Slept well?" he asked.

Her eyes wandered around, anywhere but at his face.

"Yeah, sure," she replied weakly. "Didn't have crazy dreams, didn't wake up screaming. Pretty good, I'd say..."

"Great. So you gonna go into the Maze with me today or what?" he nodded his head to her pack over his shoulder.

"Uh... I..." there was just something in the way he asked it that threw her off. "Yeeaah... okay."

"Cool," he smiled happily and took a step back. "Let's get some breakfast."

He pulled her with him toward the kitchen which was nothing new. Minho loved dragging her around with him, it sort of became a daily routine ever since she arrived in the Glade. But her heart was beating one hundred miles per second and her knees felt weak.

Frypan made bacon that morning and it made her forget about the ludicrous thoughts for the moment. The Cook's bacon could literally wake a dead man from the grave. They were just so delicious, and tender, and juicy, and damn Minho's eyes looked mesmerising in the sunlight.

Bloody hell, she groaned inwardly.

She remembered the time when they locked her up in the room upstairs because they thought Minho and her were obsessed with each other. If they could read her thoughts right at that moment, they'd know what obsessed really meant. She could not keep her eyes off of him, and yet looking at him sent uncomfortable jolts throughout her body at the same time.

Maybe she was off the deep end too.

"Hey," Newt came to the rescue. "Anyone seen Tommy yet?"

They looked at him and shook their heads as he sat down. Cassandra noticed the small wince as he repositioned his bad leg. She never really thought much about it; Newt always looked like the limp didn't bother him but she guessed it still did from time to time.

"Must still be sleepin', the shank," he rubbed an eye tiredly.

"Someone should wake Sleeping Beauty up then," she retorted jokingly. "Doesn't he have a date with the Slammer today?"

"Yeah, that's why I'm lookin' for him," Newt told her. "I see you're goin' in the Maze today. Bout bloody time, what d'yu think we made you a Runner for?"

She pretended to scowl at him and he grinned back in jest. There was no use denying that she was probably the worst Runner they had in the Glade, and she spent almost three months out of commission. It certainly hadn't been her idea to be made Runner in the first place.

Newt managed to spot Chuck walking about and told him to fetch Thomas for breakfast. Cassandra and Minho couldn't stay to greet the boy,as they were losing daylight and it was a big, big Maze out there. Bidding Newt goodbye, they headed slowly towards the South Door. They didn't usually go this way since it used to be Nick and Ben's designated route. Minho had told the Runners to take it in turns to continue where the two had left off. She guessed today was theirs.

They went into Sector Five. It'd been a really long time since she set foot in this section of the Maze so she didn't really remember what was inside anymore. She followed Minho, taking note of their turns and trying to remember the patterns. After a while, she gave up; the shape of Minho's back was distracting her too much.

A couple of hours later, they made it to the outer section and stopped by a dead end. She had absolutely no recollection of this area and Minho noticed the perplexed look on her face.

"Forgot your Maps already?" he grinned crookedly as he teased her.

"No- uh... I'm pretty sure I've never been here before," she said, taking another look around.

The stone corridor stopped abruptly behind them and opened up to a pale barren square. There were brambles and thorn bushes surrounding the area. In the middle of the plot was another mess of bushes in different shades and colours. It would have been a nice place, if only it wasn't located inside a death trap.

"Yeah, you're right," Minho shrugged. "Combed the entire place before but nothing ever came up. Ben usually had it covered anyway."

"Then why are we here?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

"I wanted to talk to you..." he took a step forwards.

She wanted to take a step back but she stubbornly rooted herself to the ground. He was so close now; she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Minho ran a hand through her hair and she bit her lip, averting her gaze nervously.

"You want to talk?" she blurted out. "Really? Here? _In the Maze?_ "

"Nothing like the present, right?" he laughed. At the look she shot his way, his expression grew serious once more. "Cause I know you, Cassie. If I brought this up in the Glade, you'd just run away and act like it was all a joke. You don't have that option here."

"What are you talking about?" she looked up at him in bemusement.

"I'm talking about us, Cassie," he held her cheek with a hand.

"Uh... I- what?"

He smirked at her. "See what I mean? Things are different now... aren't they?"

She suddenly felt a calm settle over her, and she was pretty sure that was just the shock kicking in. Minho's tongue darted between his lips, wetting them, before biting on the bottom one. Her breath caught in her throat just then and the calm bubble popped just as quickly as it came. She opened her mouth and said the only thing she knew to say.

"No."

Minho didn't get upset or annoyed. He just rolled his eyes at her and smiled, as if he had known all along what her response would be. Then he took her by the shoulders and looked at her sternly, eyebrows rising as he did.

"Cassie... I _know_ you."

She wanted to protest, that he didn't know her at all, but she knew he damn well did. His eyes told her that he could predict every word and action that she would say or do. They had spent almost every single day together, never had to look far to be at each other's side. She thought they only shared a connection; someone she knew from the life she had lost. A familiar presence.

It was more than that now.

"You don't look at me the same anymore," he continued, snaking his hands down her arms to interlace his fingers between hers. It took all her willpower to maintain her heart rate at a steady pace and resist the urge to flee. "And neither do I."

"Minho, this is silly," she said quickly. "We're in the middle of the Maze, we're losing light-"

He hushed her, pressing a finger against her lips, which she lightly scoffed at. He was obviously not done yet.

"It didn't used to be like this," he told her. "Like sure, we had that whole past connection shuck nonsense but this is different. Now, I just... ugh, it's like I just-"

She waited patiently for him to recollect his thoughts and choose the right words to say. He sighed in frustration before starting over.

"It's like I'm gonna die or explode when I look at you." Her lips pulled up at the corners and she stopped herself from laughing when he flashed her a warning look. "In a good way," he added.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Um, Minho, usually dying isn't a good thing. Nor exploding."

"I might as well be blown to pieces," he groaned, face scrunching up in dismay. "You know what I mean. Of course you won't say yes. When I look at you now, all I can think about is how perfect you are. How much I like your eyes. How much I like your smile."

She turned away, suddenly feeling shy and the heat started to rise to her cheeks again. Minho placed a finger under the tip of her chin and slowly guided her head back to face him.

"How much I like seeing you blush," he chuckled before frowning. "Shuck it, Cassie, you have no idea."

Her eyes searched his face. She didn't know what she was feeling; there wasn't any prior information to compare it to. The only thing she knew was that he scared her, but not like in a Griever kind of way. He made her uneasy, anxious but ecstatic at the same time. Her heart swelled painfully whenever she looked at him and she wanted to touch him so badly even though it sent fire coursing through her veins.

"So...?" her voice came out in just above a whisper. "What do you wanna do about it?"

"I don't know," he sighed then paused, staring at her for a moment. "Actually, I wanna do this."

He leaned down and quickly pressed his lips against hers. She froze, eyes wide and inhaling sharply through her nose. He pulled back a second later and looked at her carefully as she released the breath she'd been holding. Her mouth moved wordlessly as she tried to process what had just happened.

"What was that?" she finally asked in a low voice.

"That's called a kiss," his mouth twitched. "You wanna try that again?"

"Um..." she felt the surge of adrenaline in her blood. "Okay..."

He closed the gap between them and this time she closed her eyes, heart fluttering in her chest. She felt his soft lips against hers and breathed deeply. His kisses were delicate, tender pecks, uncharacteristically shy and hesitant. All she could do was to mimic him, moving her lips in sync with his. He pulled back again with a guarded look in his eyes.

Then she raised her hands, felt her pulse quickening, and curled her fingers around the collar of his shirt. Something inside her had kindled into life. A spark: hot and bright, and wanting. She pulled him down and locked her lips with his once more. She could feel his stupid smug smirk as he opened his mouth and his tongue brushed against hers. He tasted sweet and glorious, exactly like how she thought he would; it stimulated every nerve fibre in her body and she wanted so much more.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His fingers tangled in her hair and their heavy breaths mingled into one. She moaned faintly, consumed by the intensity of her rapture, and stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. Her hands itched to touch more of him but she kept them in place.

They pulled away and she leaned her head back as his lips continued to trail down her throat and along her neck. She sighed before opening her eyes to look at him. His gaze was dark, heavy-lidded, and slightly unfocused as he peered back at her. After a moment, they broke out into a grin at the same time and laughed breathlessly.

"Let's head back," he said, pressing his lips against her hair. "There's no use runnin' the Maze at this point."

She bit her lip, feeling the skin bruised and raw, and nodded her head. They disentangled themselves then Minho held her hand. They took their time jogging back to the Doors and Cassandra couldn't stop the smile spreading across her face.

She had found something else to obsess over.

* * *

When asked about why they were back so early, Minho faked an injury for Cassandra and quickly ushered her into the Homestead. He led her to a room upstairs, locked the door and immediately pulled her in for another deep kiss. She giggled helplessly in his arms and Minho grinned back mischievously. They'd most likely have to deal with the questions again later but right now, there was nothing else she wanted more than to feel his lips against hers again.

They spent the next few hours entwined in each other's arms on the bed. The light outside had begun to dim and the room was bathed in a soft golden glow that casted long shadows across the floor. Cassandra blinked her eyes open, not remembering when she had drifted off to sleep. She was so comfortable nestled against the shallow groove of Minho's shoulder with her legs between his.

She shifted slowly to lie on top of his chest. Even in his sleep, he still had that little smirk on his face and it made her want to laugh. She poked his cheek and his eyebrows pulled together briefly. Then she leaned forwards, her lips lingering on his and fingertips pressed against the sides of his face. It was like the morning after a storm, when the sunlight filtered through the dark clouds and warmed the bones.

Minho has, was and always will be her safe harbour.

She pulled away but felt his hand press against her back. His head lifted off the pillow and caught her once again in a long ardent kiss. Then he leaned back and gently smoothed the hair from her face.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey back," her lips curved upwards at the side.

"Shuck, it's late," he glanced at the fading light through the window. "Think anyone's lookin' for us?"

"Hm... if you count all the Runners in the Map Room waitin' for their Keeper to debrief 'em..."

"Ah, crap."

He let his head fall back down and she laughed, resting her chin on a hand against him. Now that she had finally come to terms with the way she felt for him, she was completely at ease to examine him however she wanted to. She'd memorise his face until she was able to recognise him in the dark. The square of his jaw, the curve of his nose, the shape of his lips and eyes. She'd engrave it into every brain cell so that she would never ever forget even one micro detail.

"Hey, what would have happened if a Griever walked in on us just now?" she asked.

"We'd been _shucked_ ," he snorted at the very idea. "Guess I lucked out twice."

"Twice?"

"The second one's you," he smirked at her and she stared back then broke out into a sarcastic laugh, which he mimicked.

Cassandra pushed herself off him with a grin and sat up, looking down expectantly. She cocked her head to the door and he stared back at her languidly. Eventually, he got up and they made a move to the door.

He pulled her back for one more kiss before she pulled the knob and stepped out into the hallway, feeling like a thief in the night. The shadows crept up on them from all sides and the stairs creaked loudly under their footsteps. They re-emerged into the Glade where a cool breeze blew against their skin.

Someone had lit a bonfire and there was singing- actual singing- and dancing, with lots of raucous laughter all around them. They exchanged a look of mild surprise, not knowing how they hadn't noticed all the noise before. Not that either of them would ever complain about a party, but they hardly ever celebrated anything. And especially with recent events taking place, whose grand idea was this? Curious, they headed in the direction of the festivities and quickly got the gist of what was happening.

Alby had finally woken up and Newt was bubbling ecstatically. His enthusiasm had probably spread across the Glade like wildfire. Whenever something happened, it only took one person to start before everyone else started falling behind. It was obvious that Lee had been the one to bring the drinks out, as he was hustling glass after glass into everyone's hands with Frypan right beside him.

Winston, Jack, Fitz and the other Slicers were dancing around the bonfire, clapping their hands with wild abandon. The Builders were already engaging in a wrestling match. The Med-jacks and the Trackhoes had already devised a new game to play. There was general chaos and entertainment all around.

"Minho! Cass!" Newt came up to them. "Where the bloody hell have you two been?! Look at what's happened!"

"Yeah... we're lookin'," she laughed at him. He was clearly intoxicated, his tolerance was worse than Zart's and that's saying something.

"I leave for a few hours and you got the whole shuck place upside down again?" Minho cocked an eyebrow.

"Ah, shut up and join us, ya shucking lovebirds," he said, just as Lee came up and pressed two jars full of drink into their hands. They glanced at each other and shrugged at the same time. Minho held his jar in the air for Newt and Cassandra to clink with him then they downed everything in one big gulp.

Newt cheered, pointing at them before stumbling off again. Cassandra laughed loudly as she looked to Minho grinning back. He took her hand and they stepped forward to join the fun.

* * *

She found Thomas sitting on his own off to the side behind a cargo box. Looking down at the two full jars in her hands, she made her way towards him and dropped to the ground. He started, thrown out of his thoughts, and looked at her in surprise.

"Here," she handed him the extra jar.

"Uh, what is that anyway? At least eight people have tried to get me to drink that," he asked, eyeing the amber liquid suspiciously.

"Gally's recipe," she declared with a giggle. "It tastes exactly as it sounds. Try some, you'll feel manlier and uglier and crazier instantly."

He laughed at her. "You have clearly drunk way too much of this stuff."

"No, really, just try it!" she insisted.

"Okay, fine," he took the jar and raised it to his lips. Then spat it out. "Ugh! That's disgusting!"

"Yeah, that's what I said the first time too," she nodded sagely. "But you get used to it after a while. It's the only thing here that makes everyone loosen up. Look at Alby, he's actually tolerable now."

"I can see how it came from Gally," Thomas commented drily.

She hummed and leaned against the box behind them. He glanced at her, fidgeting his hands slightly and tapping his foot on the ground.

"Hey, Cassandra..." he started. "Newt told me you've heard voices in your head before."

"Yeah, I have," she replied, voice drawling. "The first time was a crazy girl. And the second time, I didn't know who it was. But I got this feeling that it was you."

"Me?" he scrunched his face up in bewilderment. "Why me?"

"Cause you were like my guardian or whatever," she shrugged and waved a hand. Her eyelids drooped down. "I don't know, man, but... it was concerned about me and..."

"And...?" he pressed.

She started and looked around blearily. "Whoa, what was I talking about just then?"

Thomas opened his mouth but Minho suddenly came up to them yelling for her. He grabbed her around the shoulders, squeezing her tightly in his arms and planting a big sloppy kiss on her cheek. Then he was pulling her away. Thomas sat there dumbfounded and wondered if he'd ever get a real answer out of the girl.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

I'M SO HAPPY THEY'RE FINALLY TOGETHER AAAAHHHHH


	41. ANDROMEDA

**ACT I SCENE XLI  
ANDROMEDA**

* * *

 _ **HER BLOOD BURNED LIKE** an inferno inside her veins. The pain intensified with every small spasm her muscles made but her body continued to writhe frantically in an attempt to escape._

 _"STOP IT! PLEASE STOP!" she screamed, straining against the metal binds._

 _"It'll only last a moment longer." The blonde woman tightened the screws on the device around her head sadistically. She felt the spikes dig deeper into her head and she shrieked. "We need to measure your pain threshold. It's all part of the data analysis."_

 _Something hot and wet slid down the middle of her forehead over her face. She could smell the coppery scent and taste the iron as she continued to scream in agony. She wanted to die, pass out, go into a coma, anything to just make it all stop. Salty tears mixed with blood dropped onto her white dressing gown in a bloom of bright red._

 _The door to the room suddenly slammed open and someone was yelling at the top of his voice. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"_

 _"It's just simple procedure," Dr Clark explained coldly. "The hypothesis-"_

 _"This was not what we discussed!" Thomas spat furiously. "You're killing her! Get out before I call security!"_

 _"You can't-"_

 _"Yes, I can! I am her ward!" he shouted authoritatively._

 _The woman took her hands off her and threw a disgusted glare at the boy. She stormed out of the room, heels clicking across the tiled floor pointedly and slammed the door shut behind her. Thomas immediately unscrewed the vice from her head and flung it across the room. Then he unstrapped the bindings on her wrists and ankles._

 _"Cassandra?" he shook her. "Stay with me, okay?"_

 _She looked at him, eyes bloodshot with tears blurring her vision. A choked sob escaped her chapped lips and she broke down. Thomas tried to comfort her but nothing he said would ease the pain. She had nothing left to live for- her home, her father, her friends- everything was taken away from her, and now she was trapped inside this torture chamber._

 _She wanted to die._

* * *

Cassandra woke up with a stiff neck and a throbbing head. She groaned in pain, unable to remember anything from the previous night after she had started playing that stupid game that Frankie came up with. And somehow she had ended up in a hammock, limbs tangled with Minho.

Not that she actually minded waking up tangled in Minho.

"Hey," she whispered, shaking him. "I can't feel my arm, you weigh like a ton, dude."

He hummed in reply. It was still dark, with only a pale blue light to mitigate the deep shadows. It felt cold and she shivered. Her arm was still trapped under Minho and she tried to pull it out but there wasn't enough space to do that. Maybe rolling him off the hammock would have been easier but she'd probably fall off with him too. That posed another problem. How were they going to get off this thing without eating dirt or severely harming each other?

After a bit more coaxing, she finally got the boy to open his eyes. He looked back at her with a silly content smile on his face. She wanted to kiss him, so she leaned over and did just that.

"I could get used to this," he told her.

"I bet you could," she chuckled. "Come on, time to wake up."

She went first; slowly disentangling herself from him and taking a tentative step out of the hammock, careful not to make any sudden movements to send the piece of canvas rocking in the opposite direction. Minho rolled off after her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his head on top of hers with a large yawn.

"Minho, stop!" she muffled her giggle against his neck.

He lowered his head and nuzzled against her cheek. She turned in his direction and her lips met his again. Footsteps crunched against the stone ground nearby and they parted to look around. Newt stood at the entrance of the tent, looking in at them with a deadpan stare.

"Bloody shucking hell, _finally_! Geezus, of all the klunk ever to klunk-" he continued muttering under his breath as he walked away again.

They exchanged amused glances before heading outside. She used the bathroom after him and he went ahead of her towards the Grove to wake Thomas up. Cassandra showered, changed into her usual white top, khaki pants and running shoes, then headed towards the storage room at the back of the Homestead. She walked through the open doors just in time to see Thomas running around in circles with his shiny new pair of shoes.

"You look like an idiot, prancin' around like a shuck ballerina," Minho commented.

Thomas' face fell and he looked up to see her approaching them. His eyes lit up in surprise at the sight of her.

"Cass," he greeted with a dorky wave. "Sometimes I forget that you're a Runner too."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," she stuck her hands into her pockets. "You guys done here?"

"Not yet. Swan Lake here still needs weapons," Minho nodded his head in Thomas' direction.

"Weapons?" the other boy raised his eyebrows.

"Awesome, I need to restock," Cassandra rubbed her hands gleefully. "Let's go!"

Minho opened the door at the back of the storage room that led down to the basement. Thomas gaped in awe as they descended the rickety steps and looked around once the light went on. They had moved all the weapons down in here ever since Gally went cuckoo. "Wow," he intoned.

"Don't use most of it," the older boy shrugged. "But hey, ya never know, right?"

Cassandra went straight to a chest at the back of the room and Thomas could see that it was piled to the top with all sorts of knives. The girl rummaged through it, picking out at least half a dozen knives that she liked and compared their sharpness with each other. She started strapping them in place; one in each boot, two on either sides of her waist, another on her left hip, and she even put a small thin knife under her shirt.

"Dude, are you like going to war?" Minho shot her a bemused look.

"Sh'yeah," she replied jokingly.

"This is why no one messes with my Cassie," he turned to Thomas with a serious expression.

"Um..."

"Your turn!" she gestured at the box with a wide smile.

Thomas looked at her warily before stepping forward to inspect the collection of pointy stabbing objects. Once they were all stocked up, they headed back to the Homestead for some breakfast. Cassandra told them that she'd wait by the Doors and Minho brought the trainee Runner towards the Map Room for a short briefing. She ate another chicken sandwich, snuck some cookies into her pack and bumped into Lee.

"Hey, Cass," he grinned down at her. "How's the newbie lookin'?"

She shrugged. "Lookin' like an eager beaver."

"Yeah, I remember what that was like," he nodded. "We didn't see you and Minho yesterday, got us all a little worried there. What were you guys doin'?"

"Uh..." she gaped at his unexpected question. "Nothin'...? I, uh... hurt my leg- wait, no- wrist! Yeah... we came back early to... rest..."

She would have smacked herself in the head right then if she dared. Lee eyed her curiously.

"Okay..." he shrugged. "Well, see ya later!"

She watched him leave out the door, then turned her gaze in front of her again. Newt leaned against the counter top opposite her with a cheeky smirk on his face, arms folded. She held her finger up at him.

"Not a word."

He started laughing at her, a big hearty one right from the belly. She buried her face in her hand. "That was too smooth, Cass!" he gasped in between peals of laughter. She groaned and rolled her eyes at him before walking away. He followed after her, his accented voice rolling in the air.

"Restin', huh? That a new slang for shackin' up in the Homestead?" he puckered his lips at her and made kissy sounds. "Always wondered if Minho was a good kisser, he always claims he's the best at everythin'."

"Will you keep your voice down?" she turned and hissed at him. "I am not gonna talk about how good of a kisser Minho is!"

"Oho... so he is, huh?" Newt wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She made a strangled sound as she threw her hands in the air before storming across the field.

His laughter continued to chase after her until she was at the edge of the Glade. She stood at the threshold, scowling into the Maze and mentally flinging her irritation into it. A voice called her from behind a moment later and she whipped around to snap at Thomas.

"Whoa, what happened?" Minho raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, bro, better you than me."

"Oh... sorry," she mumbled. "Nothin', just nothin'."

"Is Cassandra following us too?" Thomas asked. "But that'll make three of us."

"Yeah, well..." the Keeper glanced at her. "I did say one Runner for every section but... nah, I'm not letting her out of my sight, man. She's a magnet for trouble. Almost as bad as you, actually."

She couldn't roll her eyes at that because it was true. They followed Minho through the Doors and into the Maze. Cassandra flanked them to make sure Thomas didn't lag behind or anything but he managed to keep up with Minho well enough. The older boy taught him everything he needed to know; noting down the patterns, cutting the ivy and everything in between. Once they made it into the outer sector, they stopped and sat down for a break.

"What's up with those things?" Thomas pointed to a corner of the wall. They managed to catch a hint of silver and red before it disappeared into the thick foliage. "And why do they have the word wicked written on them?"

"World In Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department," Cassandra explained, then pointed to the wall behind them. "They spy for 'em."

Thomas stood up and turned around to push the thick web of ivy away from the wall above their heads. His eyes widened when he saw the silver plaque and the words stamped in large capital letters glaring back at him. The realisation hit him as he studied the slab.

"Who are they?" he asked, turning back to them. He had an apprehensive look on his face, as if he didn't really want to know the answer to that.

"We don't know jack about those stupid Creators," Minho said, scowling and making a wringing motion with his hands. "Can't wait to rip their stupid faces off."

"Have you ever caught one of them?"

"Yeah. Only managed to get this," she fished out the microchip from her pocket. "I always have it with me. Never know when... well." She shrugged and put it back before continuing. "The only thing we've figured out is that we're experiments for whatever shuck mess is out there. And they can control us."

"How'd you figure that out?" Thomas looked at her sceptically.

"Uh, if you hadn't noticed, Golden Boy, but I kinda go into trances and predict ominous klunk."

"Oh. Right," he paused. "Wait, what did you just call me?"

"Let's go, Greenie," Minho stood up and threw Thomas' water bottle at him. The boy managed to barely catch it in time before it could hit him in the face. They secured their packs over their shoulders and started running again.

Cassandra glanced at her watch as the light started to dim around them. They had just reached the end of the last dead end when Minho stopped. He paused and scrutinised the wall in front of him.

"Does anything look different to you?" he asked.

She took a step back and craned her head to look up. The vines were tangled up more than usual, and there were places where the leaves looked like they had been ripped off. Her eyes scanned the entirety of its length before she spotted something.

She took a step forwards to pluck the object out of the dense ivy. It was a needle. She dropped it to the ground immediately while swearing out loud and it clattered against the stone floor.

"The hell is that doing here?" she hissed and looked around anxiously.

"Okay, let's go. Now," Minho said, backing away.

"W-what?" Thomas looked between them nervously. "Is that-?"

Cassandra grabbed hold of his pack and pulled him away. "Yes. Yes, it is."

He looked like he wanted to pick it up and examine it but she was having none of that.

"Don't give me that look," she said sternly. "We got another one in the Map Room anyway, which we need to get our butts to right this instant."

"But-" Thomas breathed out as he ran after them. "Don't you think we should check it out? What if there's something under the ivy, in the wall-?"

"Dude, a wall is a wall is a wall," Minho told him. "Solid. We've checked every inch of this place. Shucking Griever must have just gotten tangled in it or whatever. I don't wanna be there when it realises its stuff's gone."

The boy looked like he wanted to argue some more but thought better about it. They just continued running in silence, kicking away their vines on the way back, until the Doors finally came into view. Then they headed straight for the concrete building to draw up their little maps.

Cassandra showed the other piece of needle they had found from the hiding hole packs but there was nothing remarkable about it, except that it was creepy as hell. They went through the notes too but didn't come up with anything useful and Thomas insisted he wanted to check the Cliff out again. After that, they headed to the Homestead for dinner.

She could see that he was disappointed at not having found anything and she remembered feeling the same way on her first day too. It sucked. She tried to sound encouraging, but she was bad at that kind of stuff. Eventually, Thomas wandered off on his own to his spot in the Grove again.

She turned to Minho. "Did I look that miserable?" she asked.

He glanced at her, lips twitching at the edge. "Worse."

"No way!" she smacked him lightly on the arm.

"I was so scared you were gonna cry," he made his voice tremble. She gave him an angry look, which he matched with a pitiful stare. Then they broke into wide grins and she rolled her eyes at him. Minho took her hand and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

She suddenly felt a chill down her back and turned around instinctively. It was that boy, Andy, staring at her menacingly from across the kitchen. He had a distasteful expression on his face, like she insulted his entire existence or something. It made her feel nervous and she squeezed Minho's hand.

He looked up, following her gaze, but Andy had already averted his eyes. "What's up?" he asked quietly, noticing her unease. She told him what she had just seen but tried to play it down in case Minho had any ideas. Sometimes she had no clue what went through his head, he could be pretty unpredictable.

They helped themselves to more pasta before retiring for the day. After a shower, Cassandra wandered around the field outside the Homestead. The boys were getting ready to go to sleep, setting up their blankets on the ground and making themselves comfortable. She found Newt lying amongst them and sat down next to him.

"How's Tommy?" he asked.

"Disappointed," she replied, plucking off some seeds from the hem of her pants. "How's Teresa?"

"Unconscious." He paused in thought before turning to look at her. "Has she tried talking to you?"

She shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of..."

"Have you tried talking to her?"

"No..." she frowned at the thought of it. "I don't think I want to."

"What? Why not?" he rolled onto his side to face her properly. "You could get answers from her!"

"If she wanted to tell me anything, she'd probably have by now," she reasoned. "And I don't wanna risk weirder things happening."

Newt lied back down, crossed his arms above his head and sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Minho came over a moment later to bring her away to 'talk' and Newt waved his fingers slowly at them with a knowing smirk spread across his face. They went back into the tent they had woken up in that morning. She had no idea who set this tent up, or why, but she guessed it was theirs now. They crawled onto the only hammock strung up and fell asleep.

* * *

The screen flashed in front of her eyes as the beetle blade dropped to the ground. It scuttled away before the boys could get their hands on it. She pressed a button on the remote control in her hand and the screen flickered to another channel to show that they were already walking away. There was a soft knock and the door to the room opened with a beep.

"You're still watching them?" Thomas asked her quietly. She didn't reply. "They're doing great. Vitals are terrific, the brain patterns-"

"Stephen died."

He looked at her in consternation and sighed. They had all been against the idea of letting her watch the others but it was the only thing that kept her tethered to sanity. Even if the Flare wasn't slowly eating away at her, the things that Clark made her go through would drive a lesser healthy person way past Gone.

She was strong- the strongest candidate he had ever seen, in fact, and that would be exactly what was going to save her. To save them all.

The camera closed up on one of the boys. He was obviously of Korean descent; his body at the height of its physique. Thomas could tell he had outstanding leadership qualities, being the bravest of the group. Most of all, he was clever too and the both of them made up the perfect comparison sample.

"When am I joining them?" she asked, her voice flat and dull.

When they take her memories away, would she be a different person again? Would the life come back to her eyes? Will she be able to be that girl who survived five years out there in a world that had lost all hope?

"Soon," he told her.

She continued to watch, focusing her entire attention to the boy on the screen. Her chest ached with longing and the anticipation clawed at her insides. Then a voice whispered in her mind, soft and pleasant and anxious.

 _"I just triggered the Ending."_

Cassandra opened her eyes, just as someone screamed.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

Guess who's joining the partaaaayyyyy.

There was a question about Thomas being the top candidate: yes, he's still their best top candidate out of them all but everyone is also a candidate from what I understand (the Immunes, that is, I think). But here he just means that Cassie is the most resilient, she's gone through a lot.


	42. AIKHMALÔTIDES

**ACT I SCENE XLII  
AIKHMALÔTIDES**

* * *

 **SHE SCRAMBLED OUT OF** the hammock and fell to the ground with a loud grunt. Minho was already helping her stand on her feet, the both of them stumbling over each other with grogginess. They finally stepped out of the tent, squinting out at the dark field. A few of the Gladers were already up and they were looking around in bewilderment. Newt spotted them from the distance and headed their way with Alby at his side.

Something didn't feel right but she couldn't put her finger on it just yet.

"The bloody sky is gone!" the blonde yelled, flailing his arms upwards. "And that scream wasn't you, was it, Cass?"

Cassandra stopped and craned her neck upwards as she realised what was wrong. There was no light, no darkness, no stars. Nothing. There was just a flat alien grey all above them where the sky used to be. She gaped in astonishment and briefly thought that this would be exactly how the start of an apocalypse looked like.

Then she turned towards the Homestead and made her way there without waiting for the others. The girl was awake; she knew it and she had to talk to her before anyone else could. She made a dash to the building, her body slammed through the wooden doors, bounded up the stairs and burst through the room.

Teresa was sat up on the bed and she turned to look at her noisy entrance. The girl's blue eyes could penetrate through her soul.

"Cassandra...?" she asked, her voice low and uncertain.

She quickly locked the door behind her just as she heard the boys reach the landing. There was a pause then someone knocked politely on the door and she guessed that must be Minho.

"Cassie?" he called delicately. "What are you doing?"

"Girl talk," she said through the crack and turned back to Teresa. "You know my name."

"I... yeah," she replied. "I remember your face. And Tom. Where is he?"

"Hold on, I need to talk to you first," Cassandra walked forwards and took a seat. She looked at the other girl and there was still no hint of familiarity. "Do you remember anything else? Like, how did you know Thomas?"

"It's all... confusing. Everything is already fading away," she shook her head slowly. "I remember _remembering_. But nothing's there... it's all empty."

"Oh," Cassandra intoned, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"I knew the both of you before the Maze," she went on. "I know that Tom's my friend and... and he looked after you."

"But I don't remember _you_ ," Cassandra frowned deeply. What was with this girl? What did she used to know?

"I don't think we've ever met in person before," Teresa looked at her with that piercing azure gaze. "But I think... I think I can trust you."

"Before you woke up," she leaned forwards and lowered her voice. "I heard you in my head. You said you triggered the Ending."

"I know, I did," the other girl whispered back. "But I don't know what it means. How did you hear that?"

A series of loud angry knocks came from behind and Alby was yelling impatiently for her to open up. Not wanting any more doors to be broken down, she went over and unlocked it. The three boys shuffled inside, with Clint trailing along behind. Teresa looked at them with wide eyes, glancing back at Cassandra nervously. She introduced them to her, making sure that she'd be comfortable in their presence.

"I assume all of you heard our conversation?" she turned back to them.

"Yeah, sounds like she's a lot like you, Cass," Newt said. "Reckon she'll remember more later on."

"You sure you don't know anythin'?" Alby asked, face hard and eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I... I want to talk to Tom," Teresa said resolutely, her lip thinning into a severe line.

Minho glanced at his watch before pulling on Cassandra's sleeve. "Sorry, lady, but you'll have to wait. Cassie, come on, get ready."

It almost slipped her mind that they had a schedule to keep up with. She asked Clint to take care of Teresa before following Minho out of the Homestead. They went to look for Thomas straightaway, grabbed a quick breakfast and went into the Maze again.

Everything looked distorted in the dull grey light that haunted their every footstep. She wondered what was happening and thought back to Teresa's voice in her head before they woke up, intangible yet distinct at the same time. Was it a warning? And why did the girl ask how she could hear it? Was it not meant for her?

She took the lead this time, turning the endless hallways and corridors, when she skidded to an abrupt halt. Thomas bumped into her and she grabbed him, pressing a finger to her lips urgently before he could open his mouth. She smelled it before she saw it; the repulsive odour of burnt oil and decay. Minho crept around her to take a look behind the wall, before pulling back with a firm nod.

"It's just sitting there," he informed them, a glint of annoyance in his eyes. "Shuck piece of klunk."

" _Sitting_ there?" Thomas repeated.

"Same as the one with Alby, and the other two we saw that night in the Maze," Minho told him. "This is the only way to the next Sector though, so let's just wait it out. We can make a run for it to the Glade if it chases us."

Cassandra peered around the edge and started. "It's running away! I think it heard us."

"Shuck, let's go!" the Keeper sprinted after the retreating Griever.

Cassandra hurried after him, with Thomas reluctantly on her heels. They ran down numerous corridors, barely catching sight of its tail as it rounded every turn ahead of them. Soon, they were jogging through the long familiar passageway that led towards the Cliff. The Griever skittered across the ground, flung itself beyond the chasm and disappeared. They stopped to stare in stupefaction, mouths hanging wide open.

"Whoa. That was weird," she finally said.

"Hey," Minho glanced at her. "This seem familiar to you? The notes from the hiding hole... the Griever that stung Alby. This ain't a coincidence."

They walked towards the empty schism and peered down at it. Cassandra suddenly felt an odd sense of vertigo and her mind went clean like a blank slate as her feet moved forwards on their own.

"Cass!" Thomas called, reaching out for her in panic.

"Wait, stop!" Minho told him quickly. "She's in another trance. Don't touch her; just get ready to pull her back if she starts to fall."

The girl paused at the very edge of the precipice and looked down with eyes glazed over. Thomas watched her, his heart beating in his throat and muscles coiled ready to grab her.

"He went into the hole and disappeared," she said, her voice sounding far away.

He looked to Minho for an explanation. "Nick. The half shank. Went down the Box Hole when he heard her say the same thing."

"It's our only way out," Cassandra went on. "They'll die but The End is here. Push. Open. Gone."

She stretched a trembling hand at the grey empty sky and a foot slid out from under her. They grabbed her just in time as her body leaned forwards and pulled her back. She fell to the ground with a rough jolt and cried out in surprise. Her eyes regained their clarity and she looked between them in confusion.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Shuck, I can't believe it," Minho breathed out, a hand tugging at his hair. "Oh, my freaking God, how could we be so stupid?"

"Huh?" she shot him a look. Thomas repeated what she'd said, word for word, making her frown. "That's ominous," she paused before jumping up with a start. "Oh, my God! Are you shucking kidding me?!"

"What?"

She exchanged glances with Minho before explaining to Thomas. "It's been right in front of our faces this entire time. _This_ is the freaking hole!"

Cassandra suddenly stopped as a wave of dismay hit her. If they had figured this out sooner, Nick wouldn't have died. Her 'prophecies' had been leading them to this very realisation. The Grievers, those monstrosities that lurked in the shadows to terrorise them, were the clues they'd been searching for this entire time.

That was so messed up.

"Okay..." Thomas nodded slowly, placing his hands on his hips. "So the Grievers can escape through the Cliff. Maybe we can too?"

"There you go again with your death wish," Minho shook his head. "But this time, I think you're right. There must be something, like an optical illusion, hiding an exit or whatever."

There was a flurry of movement from the boy as he took off his pack and rummaged around in it for his notepad and pencil, then he started collecting pieces of rocks into a pile. Cassandra followed suit, ready to tackle their dilemma that had been nigh unsolvable for the past two years.

"Okay, let's get this right," he said. "I don't wanna be the one who messes up when the first shank jumps and falls to his death."

"That shank ought to be the Keeper of the Runners," Thomas said jokingly. "You'd better be holding onto one beauty of a rope."

"That's not funny," Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yeah, yeah," Minho rolled his eyes. "Okay, let's take turns tossing them in. Cassie, I want you to sit right here and keep an eye on everything. If anything looks funny, I wanna know."

"Okay," she perched herself near the edge between the two boys, pencil poised at the ready over her paper.

They started throwing their rocks on the left side of the empty space, one after the other, in a tightly spaced line. It went on in rows; the chunks of stone soared through the air and plummeted with the pull of gravity. Each one continued to fall and fall until it was too far out of their sights. Cassandra tried to concentrate, but with every piece that fell, so did her confidence.

Then she blinked and Minho's rock disappeared.

"Whoa!" she rubbed her eyes. "Did you guys see that?!"

"What the hell?" Minho frowned. "We've been throwing klunk over this for years and I've never seen anything disappear. Never."

"Yeah... actually, wait, maybe we blinked funny," Thomas gestured. "Throw another one in."

Minho took a larger stone and flung it at the exact same spot. She kept her eyes trained on it until it was swallowed up by absolutely nothing. "Holy shuck," she whispered before drawing up a diagram with estimates of the magic rock eating point. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and her mind sped at the new phenomenon.

The boys managed to figure out that the invisible hole was about one by one metre in area; just big enough for a Griever to squeeze through with its limbs retracted. She put her notepad down and simply stared off at the position in the grey sky as if she would eventually see through the illusion and figure out its mechanism.

Eventually, Minho decided to continue running the Maze before heading back to the Glade. Nothing else had come up; and they made a pit stop at the Map Room before telling the others about the news. The rest of the Runners had already returned and were dutifully sketching out their own maps around the table. Lee came up to them the moment they walked in.

"Dude, look at this," he said and held up a shiny metal box in his hand. "There was a Griever sitting next to the doors to Sector Seven. When it heard me comin', it got up and ran away. This dropped from it."

"What the hell are these things doing dropping their klunk all over the place?" Cassandra made a disgusted face as she examined the object dubiously.

Lee shrugged. "Here." He handed the box to Minho, who opened the rusty hinges. He peered inside then looked up in consternation.

"What am I lookin' at?" he asked.

"No clue," the other Runner shrugged again. "Thought one of you might know somethin'."

Cassandra stood on her tiptoes and peeked into the simple container. There was nothing in it except for a serial of numbers stamped at its bottom.

"Is that like some kind of code?" Thomas asked over Minho's shoulder. They glanced at him and hummed in thought.

"There _are_ eight numbers," Minho said. "But what do they correspond to?"

"The only patterns in the Maze are the walls moving," Cassandra paused. "But we've already compared each sector. Maybe it's the days?"

"We'll think about this later," the Keeper shut the box with a snap and slipped it into his pocket. He then got Thomas to draw up that day's map of Sector One, comparing it to the previous day's and then they were stepping out of the concrete structure.

As if thinking about them would summon them, Newt and Alby were already heading in their direction with angry expressions on their faces. The older boy kept shooting glares between Cassandra and Thomas, not knowing which to place the blame on this time around.

"Did you find anything? _Anything_ at all?" the blonde immediately asked as soon as he was near enough. They recoiled at the biting tone in his voice.

"Hey, man, nice to see you too," Minho gave him a concerned glance. "What's wrong?"

"This whole shuck place is fallin' apart," Newt's bit his lip and it trembled. "The Box hasn't come up for supplies; once every two weeks without fail. And now nothin'..."

"Oh, we're shucked for good now," Minho whispered. Cassandra drew a sharp breath at the news. No sun, no supplies- were they going to starve to death? They were totally ill prepared for this.

Newt asked them again if they'd found anything in the Maze and they told them about the Griever Hole- as Thomas insisted on calling it- that they'd found at the Cliff. Their reactions were just as she had expected; utter disbelief. She still couldn't really wrap her head around it either, that their way out had been a trick- a simple mirage that required luck to find.

Suddenly there was a commotion outside the Homestead, a group of boys had gathered at the entrance and they were yelling loudly. Then someone broke through and was running towards them at breath neck speed. She could see the tangle of dark hair and fiery blue eyes as the figure came closer.

Teresa stopped a few feet away, her gaze locked onto Thomas.

* * *

"There's something weird about that girl."

Cassandra looked up at Minho as she took off her pack and set it down on the ground next to the hammock. She unstrapped the knives around her waist and hummed in thought.

"Thought you liked weird," she smirked cheekily.

"You're a special kind of weird, Cassie," he told her. "She and Thomas, there's something goin' on between the two of 'em."

"What? Like you and me?"

She paused, knife in hand, and turned around when he hadn't replied. Minho was sat on a crate; his gaze kept on the ground and forehead wrinkled in deep thought. Her heart fluttered nervously in her chest as she waited for a response.

"Minho?" her voice was soft.

"Yeah, like you and me," he said slowly. "I can't shake off this feeling, like when I look at 'em; I'm also lookin' at us."

"Hey," she went over to him and rubbed his arm in a comforting gesture. "Don't think about it too much. They're fine."

"You really trust her?" he raised an eyebrow at her. "You punched Thomas and he didn't turn out to be the bad guy."

She bit her lip uncertainly. Her instincts had mostly been right before, and the only reason she hated Thomas in the beginning was because she only had those particular memories of him, it was just a misunderstanding. She knew nothing about Teresa though.

"I don't know," she shook her head and shrugged. "My head hurts to think about it. I'm gonna have a shower."

"Hey," he pulled her back and gave her a soft lingering kiss. "I'll be here."

She smiled before pulling away from him and heading towards the bathroom. It was dark inside and the light bulb seemed to have blown. Sighing in annoyance, she took off her clothes and stepped into the shower. A jet of freezing ice-cold water hit her and she let out a strangled yelp at the onslaught.

She turned the knob off then hugged herself as her body shivered and teeth chattered uncontrollably. _What the hell?_ If there had been one absolute constant in her life there in the Glade, it had been the warm showers she looked forward to at the end of a long day.

It made her angry at the thought that they would take away that one small comfort they had. Then she froze as the realisation clicked into place. The bulb hadn't blown, the electricity had- it was gone, and so was the heating. Cassandra grabbed hold of the knob again and turned it, her fingers slipping against the wet plastic. She turned it until the handle stuck in place but there wasn't anymore cascade of chilling water. Or any water at all.

Shuck.

She grabbed her towel and quickly dried herself before throwing her clothes back on. The door swung open with a sudden lurch as she hurled herself against it and stopped to find the Glade in complete disarray. Boys were running around with torches in their hands, shouting and pointing in every direction.

Minho ran up to her, his face pale with terror in his brown eyes. Even when they had been stuck in the Maze, she didn't remember seeing him look this frantic.

"The Doors!" he yelled. "They're not closing!"

This can't be happening, she thought, as a ripple of fear went up her spine. He started to pull her away, across the field and towards the Homestead. The shock left her mind and body numb, goose bumps rose on every inch of her skin. Then a Griever shrieked nearby, dangerously close to the walls.

This can't be real.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE** **:**

Guys, what should Cassie and Minho's ship name be? Mindra? Micassa? Cassinho?


	43. CRISIS

**ACT I SCENE XLIII  
CRISIS**

* * *

 **THE HOMESTEAD HAD BEEN** boarded up tight, all the lights extinguished so they wouldn't attract attention to themselves. They had done all they could to make the place their fortress, but it was still a sorry excuse of a shacked up decrepit shelter. Minho and Cassandra had unloaded their entire arsenal of slipshod weaponry and handed them out to the others.

She'd found a metal and claimed it as her own, bringing it around with her wherever she went as if it was some magic staff to protect them. Alby had gone off to guard the Map Room after they'd discussed what they were going to do with their new situation.

She tried to sleep, but closing her eyes was the farthest thing from her mind so she just clung onto Minho, listening to his soft breathing. She was glad that he was able to rest; at least one of them would be functioning properly later. They had squeezed into a room upstairs with Newt, Thomas and a few other boys. Everyone was tossing uneasily as they tried desperately to get some shuteye.

The night dragged on and eventually Cassandra had laid her head on Minho's shoulder and dozed off. It had probably been only a couple of hours when a loud bang woke her up again. Panicked, she reached for the metal bar, her body instantly set to fight mode. Except when she looked up, she saw Gally.

Confusion crashed over her as she stared at him as if he was a ghost. The boy was bloodied, clothes torn, and his eyes darted around the room with absolute crazed lunacy. Thomas had fallen to the floor, scrambling to get up and Minho reached over to pull him away from the psycho boy.

She slowly rose to her feet, aware that she had been the last one to wake up and the rest of the boys had fled from the room. How had she managed to sleep through whatever just happened? She tried looking at Minho for answers but everyone was preoccupied with what was currently happening.

"It can't be solved," Gally was saying, his voice low and distant. "The shuck Maze'll kill you shanks... The Grievers'll kill you... one every night till it's over... it's better this way. They'll only kill you once a night... their stupid variables..."

She froze upon hearing the word he used. Variables. It seemed so odd, so out of place for him to say something like that. What did it mean? Variables for what?

"Gally, shut your bloody hole," Newt said. "There's a Griever right outside the window. Just sit your butt down and be quiet- maybe it'll go away."

"You don't get it, Newt," Gally turned on him. "You're too stupid- you've always been too stupid! There's no way out- there's no way to win! They're going to kill all of you! One by _one_!"

He screamed and suddenly hurled himself at the window like a rabid animal, clawing at the planks boarded across it. He managed to rip one off, throwing it to the side and immediately grabbed at the second. Newt yelled and lunged forwards to stop him with Minho. Gally ripped the plank out and swung it around him, colliding with Newt's head. There was a spurt of blood as the blonde collapsed onto the bed and she cried out with a shrill voice. Minho stopped in time, narrowly avoiding the same fate as his friend.

"Stop it, you slinthead!" he yelled angrily, looking like he was about to tackle Gally.

Cassandra scrambled forwards to Newt, turning him onto his back to examine the wound. Blood soaked through his hair and was already sliding down the side of his face. She didn't know what to do, she wasn't a Med-jack, she just grabbed the blanket and pressed it against his head in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

Gally had already torn apart the last plank and instantly, there was a burst of shards as a Griever rammed itself through the window. She screamed, her heart jumping up to her throat, and threw herself onto Newt. A metallic arm reached for her and she scrambled backwards, dragging the blonde across the bed with her away from it.

She could see the monster's pulsating grey flesh trying to ooze its way into the small opening, whirring gears and odd attachments banging against the side of the wall in a horrendous cacophony.

"No one ever understood!" Gally wailed in dismay. "No one understood what I saw, what the Changing did to me! Don't go back to the real world! You _don't... want..._ to remember!"

With another anguished scream, he threw himself at the Griever. Cassandra shot up from the bed towards him and grabbed hold of his arm. "Gally! No! You stupid shuck!"

The Griever dug its metal claws into his skin as it sucked the boy deep into its flesh. She felt sick watching it, but she continued to tug on his arm, trying in vain to pull him back from its hold. Her feet budged from under her as the Griever moved away from the window and Minho caught hold of her from behind.

"Let him go!" he shouted into her ear and she released her fingers.

The Griever landed on the ground outside, its engines revving loudly as if cheering triumphantly. Three others came forward to greet it and together, they started back towards the Doors.

"Shuck," Minho said, then shoved her towards Thomas. "Both of you don't move!"

With that, he sprinted out of the room and down the stairs. She blinked in shock then turned to Thomas, who appeared equally bewildered. They headed towards the window and looked out over the chaos. Minho was sprinting across the Glade towards the Doors, after the Grievers.

* * *

She pushed away and made to dash out of the room but someone grabbed hold of her wrist. Cassandra turned around angrily to find that Newt had been the one to stop her. She squirmed against his iron grip, surprised that he had that much strength when he'd just gotten up from a possible concussion.

"Let go of me! Newt! Let go!" she cried hysterically, trying to pry his fingers off her.

"No, Cass!" he said. "And don't you dare go after him either, Tommy! Minho may have fried the last of his brain cells along with Gally but I'm not letting you two follow him."

She continued to struggle desperately, feeling her skin starting to become raw. Thomas was free to disobey the older boy though, and he made a run for it out the door. "Oi!" Newt yelled, his expression filled with chagrin, then he turned back to the window when something caught his attention. He pulled her with him as he took a better look out at the field.

She saw it too. Smoke was rising over in the distance, coming from the open door of the Map Room.

"Bloody hell," he sighed.

"Oh, shuck," she murmured, distracted by the new dilemma. She would have freaked out over it, but Minho had let her in on their little secret earlier. "Did you guys manage to move everything?"

"Yeah, we did," he replied, glancing at her. "Good thing too."

He continued to hold on to her wrist as she picked up her metal bar and they exited the Homestead. Thomas hadn't run out after Minho, but he looked like he sorely wanted to as he stood by the Doors, staring out into the dark twisting corridors. They made their way towards him after Newt took a towel to press against his still open wound.

"I think I should go in after him," Thomas said.

"To be a bloody hero again?" Newt asked.

"You think I'm trying to impress you shanks?" he snapped. "All I care about is getting out of here."

Cassandra wondered when he started picking up their slang. It sounded hilarious coming from the boy, she wanted to laugh out loud at it.

"Yeah, well, you're a regular toughie," Newt snorted. "Anyway, we've got worse problems."

"What?"

"Somebody-"

"There he is!" Thomas shouted, interrupting the blonde. They looked in the same direction and saw Minho rounding the corner up ahead, running back to the Glade. Thomas cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled. "What were you doing, idiot?!"

The Runner came through the Doors and stopped, bending down to catch his breath. She watched him suck in a couple gulps of air before starting. "I just... wanted... to make sure..."

"Make sure of what?" Newt asked. "Lotta good you'll be, taken with Gally."

"Slim it, boys!" he straightened up and put his hands on his hips. "I just wanted to see if they went to the Cliff. Into the Griever Hole."

"And?"

"Bingo."

"I can't believe it. What a night," Newt rolled his eyes and Cassandra took that as her opportunity to wrench her wrist free from his grip. She grabbed hold of her metal bar in both hands and swung it up into the air with a loud swish. Newt took a side step in surprise and she started towards the boy in front of her.

"You stupid-!" she swung the bar haphazardly in Minho's direction. Thomas cried out and jumped away, giving them a wide berth. The Runner moved his body from side to side, easily avoiding her half-hearted attacks.

"Whoa, Cassie, hey, I'm sorry!" he said, stepping around her in circles. "I didn't have time to think- plus I didn't want to risk you getting hurt."

"I'll show you what hurt is!" she grunted as she threw a large arching swing at him. He stepped out of her way again and she tripped, losing her balance then dropping to her knees. She cried out in disgust and chucked the entire bar at him instead. It connected with his shin, making him cry out in pain, and she felt satisfied at that.

After dancing around a little, rubbing his sore leg, he came up to her and put his hands on his hips again. "Better?"

She scowled, lips moving to grumble silently. "No! Don't you _ever_ do that again!"

"Okay, okay," he bent down to pull her back onto her feet. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

She punched him and he winced. "Yeah, I deserved that."

Placated for the moment, she heaved a heavy sigh before wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her face in his chest. He rubbed her back and chuckled, she could feel the little tremors all around her.

"I will never understand girls," Thomas said drily.

"You and I both. Good luck, Minho."

"I think it's kinda cute," he shrugged.

"Wait, you were saying we had worse problems?" Thomas turned back to Newt.

"Yeah, someone burnt all the friggin' map trunks," he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. Thomas turned in the direction of the smoke but he didn't seem particularly upset about it. She stepped away from Minho and exchanged a look with him.

"Let's find out what happened," he said, glancing back to Newt. The blonde nodded his head and they started across the field. Thomas went in the direction of the Slammer instead, presumably to check on Teresa. She could see a group of Gladers gathered around the blackened mouth of the Map Room.

"Hey, why didn't you wake me up when the Grievers came?" she asked halfway there.

"We tried," Minho replied. "But you wouldn't wake up. You kept mumbling something like you were in another trance."

"Really?" she looked up in surprise, wishing she could remember the weird things she said whenever she did that. "You didn't catch anything?"

"Not really. Sounded like you kept saying 'variable' but it didn't make much sense."

That word again. What was up with that word? It gave her the chills to think about it.

They approached the group of boys, who parted to let them through. She saw Winston crouching over a body on the ground, and her immediate reaction was to panic. She gasped out loud and covered her mouth. "Did someone die?!"

The Slicer looked up at her with a waning smile, eyebrows raised in amusement.

"No, just knocked out," he said. "He's got a nasty cut on his head. Figured someone broke in and jumped him, then burnt the shuck room."

"Did anyone see who did it?" Newt asked, walking around them and turning Alby over to examine the damage. A large gash ran across his forehead, blood running down the sides of his face, and the blonde folded his towel to a clean side to press against it.

"Not that I know of, everyone was holed up in the Homestead," Winston replied.

"Do you think it was Gally?" Newt looked up at them and Minho shrugged.

"What if he did it to himself?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Cassandra snorted. "Who knows what the shuck the Changing did to him?"

"Was there anythin' that got saved?" Minho turned to ask Lee.

The other Runner shook his head, a few of the others stood behind him with downcast expressions. By the time the Grievers had gone and they noticed the Map Room was in flames, it had been too late. They seemed pretty upset that their two years of hard work had disappeared in the blink of an eye. It was hard for the three of them to keep up the ruse when the rest of the team looked like kicked puppies.

Thomas came running up a moment later, looking around for them. He stopped to survey the damage, his eyes landing on Alby's body.

"Is he _dead_?!"

"Does he seriously look shucking dead?" Winston exclaimed in exasperation.

"Where'd you go?" Minho looked at him sternly.

"To talk to Teresa- what happened?" he asked anxiously.

"Our Map Room was set on fire and you ran off to talk to your shuck girlfriend? What's wrong with you?" he frowned, looking irritated. Cassandra knew he wasn't trying to be scathing but he sounded like he was.

"I didn't think it mattered anymore, if you haven't figured the Maps out by now..."

It was her turn to look at him angrily. "Are you shucking serious? Didn't matter any-"

"I'm sorry, okay! Just tell me what happened!" he leaned over Jim's shoulder to take a better look at the scene. Minho started to explain to him what they'd found, and that they all thought someone had broken in to sabotage the place.

"Who do you think did it?" Thomas asked, looking up at them hesitantly.

"Maybe Gally before he showed up in the Homestead? Maybe the Grievers? I don't know, and I don't care. Doesn't matter."

"Now who's the one giving up?" he raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Minho's head snapped up to look at him, a flash of anger in his eyes. Cassandra grabbed hold of his arm instinctively and his face quickly melted into realisation. "That's not what I meant, shank."

Thomas blinked. "Then wha-"

"Just shut your hole for now," Minho pressed a finger to his lips and looked around cautiously. "Just shut your hole. You'll find out soon enough."

Cassandra's eyes darted around at the other boys as well. They'd started to disperse when Thomas came over but some of the Runners continued to hang around, discussing what they should do and whether they should try drawing the Maps up again from memory.

"Minho, I need to tell you guys something. And we need to let Teresa out- she's probably starving and we could use her help."

"That stupid girl is the last thing I'm worried about," he retorted.

"Hey, come on," she tugged at his shirt. "Don't be mean to her. He's right, she must be hungry. Imagine if it was me locked up in there."

He turned to her with a pained frown on his face. "Why'd you have to put it like that?"

"Just a few minutes- we got an idea," Thomas continued. "Maybe it'll still work if enough Runners remember their Maps."

"An idea?" Minho looked back at him curiously, folding his arms. "What idea?"

"Just come to the Slammer," he said. "You, Newt and Cass."

"Okay, sure," Cassandra decided for them and called for Newt. "Newton, get over here, we need to talk. Let Clint handle that!"

He looked up at them questioningly before handing his towel over to a nearby kid and telling him to get one of the Med-jacks. Then he stood up and limped over to them. "What d'yu wanna talk about?"

"Just come with me," Thomas said impatiently and led them back to the Slammer. They couldn't see the girl through the impenetrable shadows inside the little barred room but she was definitely there waiting for them. Newt rubbed the back of his head wearily as Thomas demanded for the girl to be let out.

"Tommy, this is-"

"Please, just open it. Let her out. Please."

"How can we trust her?" Minho asked. "She admitted she triggered something and now the whole shuck place has fallen to pieces."

"He's got a point."

"C'mon, it can't be her fault," Cassandra said. "She got put here like the rest of us too. It's just the same as when Golden Boy came along."

Thomas nodded his head fervently, glad that she was on his side at least. He continued to persuade them, Newt especially, since he had the keys. The two boys exchanged a long look with each other, having another one of their silent conversations.

"Come on. What's she gonna do? Run around and stab every Glader to death?"

"Fine," Minho rolled his eyes. "Just let the stupid girl out."

"I'm not stupid!" Teresa shouted through the bars. "And I can hear every word you morons are saying!"

Cassandra liked her already.

"Real sweet girl you picked up there, Tommy," Newt commented dryly.

"She's not half as sweet as Cass, though."

"Yeah, you better believe it," she snorted.

"Cassie's mine," Minho added. "Go away."

Newt walked over to the Slammer and unlocked the door, pulling it wide open. Teresa walked out, her blue eyes blazing as she glowered at the blonde and threw an equally shady look at Minho. When she saw Cassandra though, she managed a small smile before standing next to Thomas. She really did feel as if she was looking at herself and Minho when she saw the two of them together. It was so weird.

"Alright, talk," Minho demanded. "What's this idea?"

Thomas looked to Teresa uncertainly, and she glanced back unhappily. "What? You talk- they obviously think I'm a serial killer."

"Yeah, you look so dangerous," he muttered before explaining the details to the three of them. Before Teresa woke up, she had told Thomas telepathically that the Maze was a code. That maybe it was trying to send them a hidden message.

First, Grievers start disappearing out of nowhere and drop their klunk around. Then the sun snuffed itself out and all their utilities got cut off. Now this?

"A code?" Minho raised an eyebrow doubtfully. "How's it a code?"

"I don't know- it's just a theory. You guys know the Maps better than I do, so I was hoping you'd remember some of them."

Minho looked to Newt, eyebrows raised in question, and the blonde nodded his head in return. The Keeper sighed and scratched the back of his head quizzically as he faced forwards again.

"What?" Thomas started slowly. "You guys keep acting like you have a secret."

"Cause they do, shuckface," Cassandra sniggered. "They hid the real Maps."

"Wha-?"

"We hid the freaking Maps in the weapons room," Minho gestured. "Put dummies in their place. Because of Alby's warning and because of the so-called Ending your girlfriend triggered."

Thomas' face suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree, and a wide smile started to spread across his face.

"They're all safe and sound. Every last one of those suckers. So if you have a theory, start talking."

"Take me to them," Thomas said.

"Okay, let's go," Minho waved his hand and turned around when he heard a thud next to him. Looking back, he saw Cassandra had fallen to the ground and he quickly dropped down to her side, picking her up in his arms. "Cassie! Not again!" he shook her, smoothing her hair against her face.

"There's no hope. It's futile. There's nothing left to save," she muttered under her breath, turning her head from side to side. "They're all going to die. It was all a test- nothing is real. It was all a lie."

She suddenly shot up from his arms, gasping loudly as her brown eyes flew wide open. She took in large ragged breaths that made her body shudder and Minho leaned over to hold her. Her gaze darted from side to side as she slowly came back to reality; whatever just happened was different from her usual stupors.

"Oh, my God," she exclaimed slowly.

"What?" Newt asked uneasily.

She looked over her shoulder at them as they stared back expectantly. Minho continued to hold on to her, and she appreciated the reassuring warmth of his hands. The vision continued to linger in her consciousness, seared to the back of her mind.

"I think I just saw the way out."


	44. INACHOS

**ACT I SCENE XLIV  
INACHOS**

* * *

 **"WHAT?" THOMAS CRIED OUT** excitedly. "What did you see?"

"Slim your pants, Tommy," she glanced at him with mild amusement before pushing herself off the ground. Cassandra dusted off the dirt from her clothes before folding her arms, and facing them properly. "It wasn't much, actually. I saw some kinda computer screen and there were words on it but I don't remember what they were. It was in a room, a really dark one like it was underground or something."

"Cass!" Thomas grabbed her shoulders. "This is amazing!"

"Hey, hey," Minho placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away from her. "Back off."

"Damn, Minho, aren't you protective of your girlfriend?" Newt smirked.

"I'm his shucking princess," she joked. "And don't you forget."

"I don't know whether to bloody laugh or cry."

"Okay!" Minho raised his voice. "We got a clue- the Maze is a code and we need to put the words in some computer. Easy."

"We just need to figure the code out," she pointed. "That's where you two come in, I guess. Then we'll look for this computer room."

Thomas nodded and they made their way to the back of the Homestead where the weapons room was located. They shuffled inside the storage space and Minho switched the lights on, then showed them the little secret hiding closet in the corner. She helped him drag the boxes of Maps out of it into the open and Thomas immediately started rifling through them.

"Okay, so we know for sure that the Maze is trying to _spell_ something out for us," Thomas started as he examined a bundle of maps in his hands.

"Dude, we've studied these things for years. How do you think it's spelling out freaking words? Think we'd have noticed 'em by now," Minho frowned.

"Maybe it's too hard to see with the naked eye," he looked up, the gears spinning in his head. "Maybe we need to look at it one day at a time instead?"

"Tommy, I might not be the sharpest guy in the Glade, but sounds like you're talking straight outta your butt to me."

"Wait, hold on, I wanna hear what he has to say," Cassandra said, leaning against a table with her arms crossed. Thomas started bouncing ideas off of them, trying to figure out a way that they haven't tried to examine the Maps with. Then he paused and held a couple pieces of paper up to the light and his eyes grew wide as a thought occurred to him.

"Wax paper..." he murmured but they heard him.

"Huh?" Minho asked. "What-"

"Trust me. We need wax paper and scissors. And every black marker and pencil you can find."

"Do you know what he's smoking?" Minho turned to her as she was chewing her bottom lip in thought, eyes wide with concentration.

"Yeah... yeah, actually, I think I do..." she nodded her head slowly. Cassandra knew that Minho was a smart guy- he remembered weird formulas in his head and memorised the patterns for every sector for every day of the week. He was just freaking lazy. "Imagine it, layering each different sector in a day on top of each other. The lines would intersect at some point, and maybe it'll spell something out?"

"Oh..." he looked up with a distant expression. "Huh, that might actually work. Come on, let's go hunting!"

They spent the next few minutes gathering the supplies they needed, wax paper from Frypan and pencils lying in odd places around the Glade. There was one in the bathroom, and she couldn't explain how it got there. Their scissors had mysteriously disappeared amongst the disarray so they had to settle with their knives instead.

"Okay," Thomas handed out wads of wax paper to them. "Start cutting rectangles, about the size of the Maps. Newt and Teresa, help me grab the first ten or so Maps from each section box."

"What is this, kiddie craft time?" Minho looked at him in disgust as he picked up his knife.

"Seriously, Minho?" Thomas looked at him in exasperation. "Just do it."

Minho sighed in irritation and glanced at Cassandra, who was already cutting the wax paper up methodically. Then he followed her, but not as neatly, and threw the rectangles in a haphazard pile in front of him. After they had enough wax pieces, they started tracing the Map sections on them one by one as efficiently as they could.

She could barely concentrate on the task as Minho kept nudging her foot underneath the table and glancing at her expectantly. The urge to smack him grew with each passing second until she looked up at him sharply. He grinned at her and she wished she could speak into his head to ask him what exactly he wanted to say to her. Instead, she settled for mouthing a big 'what' at him. He scribbled something on a scrap piece of paper and held it up for her to read.

 _You look hot._

She rolled her eyes at him and he winked back at her. Then she scribbled on another piece of paper and nudged his foot for him to look.

 _You too, babe._

Minho let out a loud strangled laugh, which drew attention from the others. He cleared his throat and continued drawing, shaking his head with a wide smirk. She bit her lip but she couldn't help the impish grin over her own face.

"I've had enough," Newt exclaimed, throwing down his marker. "My fingers are bloody burning like a mother. See if it's working."

Thomas started pointing at sections and telling them to sort the pieces out into stacks. They did as he asked and piled the map pieces up in an orderly manner. With shaking hands, he picked a piece from each pile and placed them on top of one another, making sure each section corresponded with the same day. Once he was done, he leaned back and stared numbly at the finished work.

There was nothing; no word, not even a letter.

"Great, that was a bloody waste of time."

Thomas rubbed his eyes in frustration. "I was so _sure_..."

"Wait," Minho called and pointed. "There's a line out of place here going diagonal over the others. See? And over there."

"I see them too," Cassandra leaned over. "They look outta place."

Thomas sat up straight in his seat again and examined the papers, then he started shuffling them around. Each time, he did it, the lines shifted across the page, always around the same area in the middle of the grid, but there was still no hint of a word or letter.

"What is this?" he asked, frowning deeply. "There's something there, but I can't figure it out."

She looked hard at the lines, trying to connect the clues together in her head. Maybe they had to be placed in a certain way, but what could it possibly be? She tried to think hard about the section patterns, the layout of each sector, when she realised something. It had nothing to do with the Maze at all.

"It's a sequence!" Cassandra stood up, gripping a pencil tightly in her fist.

"Huh?" they looked up at her simultaneously.

"It's a _sequence_!" she repeated and grabbed the front of Minho's shirt. "Where is it?!"

"Where's what?" he looked at her as if she had just gone crazy.

"The box! The one Lee found that dropped from a Griever!" she said. "There were numbers in it, remember?"

"Oh," his eyes opened wide as he stared back at her. Then he ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him in a hurry. Cassandra quickly explained to the others and Thomas instantly gasped as he finally figured it out as well. He looked like he would have flung himself over the table to kiss her.

That would have been gross.

Once Minho was back with the box, they reshuffled the section pieces according to its sequence.

71528643.

All of them leaned over the table with bated breaths as Thomas placed the pieces on top of each other one by one, and the lines started to fit into place. Instead of overlapping over each other randomly like before, they were now repeating themselves in a uniform pattern around the middle of the map grid. Slowly, it finally became clear.

A large F sat in the middle of the completed map.

* * *

"Man," Minho said.

"Do more, quickly," Teresa urged and Thomas started on another day, arranging the pieces according to the number sequence of the Maze Sections. More letters appeared in the middle of each completed map and they started grouping the letters into words.

"What the bloody hell is a float cat?" Newt asked, bemused.

"Do more, that can't be it," Cassandra waved her hands impatiently.

The cat turned out to be the word catch.

"Definitely not a coincidence," Minho said.

"Definitely not," Thomas echoed as he continued the painstaking task of arranging the maps. Teresa pointed at the rest of the boxes, mentioning that they still had to go through all the rest of them. The mountain of maps sat in the corner, laughing at them with their quantity.

"We can't help," Minho suddenly announced and they turned to look at him weirdly. "We need to get all the Runners out into the Maze."

"Uh, why?" Cassandra shifted her gaze from side to side. "We're on a breakthrough here."

"Yeah, Minho, this is more important!" Thomas exclaimed almost angrily.

"Something might've changed out there," he told them. "Maybe something important, maybe something that'll lead us to this computer thing. I think it's time, boys and girls. We're staying out there overnight."

"Holy crap, are you being serious right now?" she looked at him with wide eyes.

Thomas hummed, liking the sound of it but he still looked like he wanted to stay and figure out the code. Then Newt made the decision for them.

"I think that's fair," he said. "You shanks go out and get Runnin'. I'll round up some Gladers we can trust and get workin' on this."

"Me too," Teresa nodded resolutely. "If you're going to decipher a hidden code from a complex set of different mazes, I'm pretty sure you need a girl's brain running the show."

She smirked widely, glancing at Cassandra. "I got it covered here, Cass, you can concentrate on the boys out there," she added.

"I _really_ like this girl," she said, turning to Minho.

"She your new best friend now?" he grimaced.

"Aw, are you jealous?" she went over and rubbed his chest in wide circles.

He swatted her away and she snickered mischievously next to him. Thomas kept looking at Teresa, like he really didn't want to leave her there. Newt picked up on it and reassured him that his girlfriend will be fine, then shooed them all out of the room. The boy's face was on fire as they stepped out into the Glade and Cassandra wouldn't stop teasing him about it.

They assembled the rest of their team and Minho gave them the happy news before organising themselves for the adventure of their lifetime. They were still two men short though but Minho was still reluctant to let Thomas or Cassandra wander off on their own. Lee volunteered to take the extra section, and they took the other one.

Their packs were full to bursting as they stuffed as many supplies as they could in them, right up to the brim. She could barely close the damn thing and it weighed heavily on her shoulders. For some unfathomable reason, she didn't feel scared- just excited. It was weird that they were all willingly going out into the Maze at night when just a week ago, the very idea would send them into a blind fright.

Chuck came over as they were getting ready by the West Door.

"I'd join you," he said. "But I don't wanna die a gruesome death."

Thomas laughed. "Thanks for the words of encouragement."

"Be careful," the kid said. "I really wish I could help."

"Just take care of yourself, Chuck," Cassandra told him, remembering the words Gally had said the night before. "The Grievers might come back."

"Yeah, what she said," Thomas jabbed his thumb in her direction. "And thanks, we'll definitely be careful."

Minho grunted. "Being careful hasn't gotten us squat. It's all or nothing now, baby."

"Yeah, boy!" she cheered, pumping her fist in the air.

"Seriously, you two..." Thomas turned to them with a deadpan expression. "You're like Bonnie and Clyde."

"What's that?" she frowned.

"Huh," Minho's eyes lit up with a wide smile. "I like it."

Cassandra shrugged, not knowing what they were talking about, but if Minho approved then she guessed it was something good. Then, making sure they had everything ready and bidding Chuck goodbye, they started off into the Maze.

* * *

They made good progress, only stopping once for a break when they had reached the last dead end of Section Eight. None of them spoke a word to each other, conserving their energy for the long night ahead. There wasn't much to say anyway, as they were too busy scrutinising every inch of the Maze. The walls hadn't moved since the night before, it was like they were locked in place, triggered by the so-called Ending.

Suddenly, Thomas tripped and crashed to the ground behind them. They didn't stop as they glanced back at him and he looked up sheepishly before scrambling up to hurry after them again. He was so weird.

" _Hey, Cass_."

She almost stumbled over herself as she heard his voice in her head a moment later. Cassandra looked back and he was smiling innocently in her direction. Even though she had done it once before, she still wasn't exactly sure how it worked. The whole telepathy thing, but she tried it anyway.

" _No, we are not doing this, Thomas._ "

" _She hates me._ "

" _I can tell,_ " Teresa's voice swam in her mind.

Scowling deeply, she turned around again to glare at the boy. How the hell were they doing that? Was there an off switch in her brain to shut them out?

"Why do you keep looking back at Thomas?" Minho asked breathlessly beside her.

"He annoys me so much," she replied bitterly.

" _Can you and Minho talk in each other's heads too?_ " Thomas asked.

" _No, now get out of mine,_ " she snapped back.

" _Aw, but the two of you are so in love with each other_ ," Teresa sighed. " _There goes my theory that Tom and I were lovers too._ "

" _Goodbye,_ " she hurled the word mentally at them, imagining it smacking into their faces. Her head was already starting to hurt.

She felt a pang of jealousy at the two of them. Why couldn't she speak telepathically to Minho too? It just wasn't fair. They didn't nearly have enough time alone with each other, and she just wanted to curl on top of him so badly; it made her feel sad.

Thomas tried talking to her again but she didn't reply for the sake of her own sanity. They scoured every inch of the next Section, running their hands across the walls for inconsistencies and climbing the vines in random spots to look around. Evening came but it wasn't like that made a difference to them with the sky gone. They had their knives out just in case though, gripping one in each hand.

Cassandra saw the tail end of a Griever up ahead of them and stopped, but it had already disappeared. Then Minho saw one next and Thomas after that. An hour later, one of the creatures came barrelling down the corridor right past them and it almost gave them all a heart attack with how close it had been. After that, another one charged in their direction, completely ignoring them as they ran, and turned into another corridor.

"They're playing with us!" Minho finally said. "It's all just a stupid game to them and Gally was probably right. I bet the Grievers took another one when we get back. They're just gonna keep killing us."

"I think you're right," Cassandra muttered. The dejection that surrounded them was like an ever-present rain cloud above their heads as they made their way back to the Glade.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE** **:**

I hope you liked the little twist with the map code! I honestly have no idea if it works that way haha oh well.

I actually never planned for Cassie, Thomas and Teresa to have a three-way connection and then this just happened. xx


	45. TYMPANISTAI

**ACT I SCENE XLV  
TYMPANISTAI (THE DRUMMERS)**

* * *

 **THEY WALKED THROUGH THE** Doors some time around the middle of the morning. She wasn't surprised to see that the Gladers were still stuck to the routines they had even though the sky was gone and everything had just gone to shuck. Soldiering on was kind of their motto around here. Her body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion, and she had no idea how long they had spent in the Maze.

Newt came running up to them a moment later.

"You're the first to be back," he said and his face was hopeful as he looked between them. "What happened? Did you find anything?"

There was a pause before Minho spoke, his voice filled with venom. "No. The Maze is a big freaking joke."

"What do you mean?" Newt's face fell, a perplexed look taking over.

"He's just discouraged," Thomas said. "We didn't find anything. The walls haven't moved, no exits. Nothing. Did the Grievers come last night?"

The blonde looked down to the ground, biting the insides of his cheek as he frowned. "Yeah. They took Adam," he answered.

Cassandra sighed. She knew the boy, Adam had been one of the Trackhoes and he was a pretty decent guy. He always took such great care of the orchard and brought back the sweetest apples. Her shoulders drooped sadly and bit her lip as she imagined what might have happened to him. Suddenly Minho started freaking out beside her, kicking hard at the ground, and sending a piece of stone flying a couple of feet away.

"I'm sick of this!" he yelled and spat into the ivy. A vein popped out in his neck as he messed his hair up in frustration. "I'm sick of it! It's over! It's all over!" He took off his pack and swung it onto the ground with a loud smack. "There's no way out. Never was, never will be. We're all _shucked_!"

He turned around and stalked off towards the Homestead. They gaped wordlessly at his back, shocked into silence by his outburst. Newt said her name and she automatically started forward after Minho. She ran to catch up with him, grabbing his hand, but he just kept on walking. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he grit his teeth and his eyes burned with hatred. She didn't know what to say and her heart thumped hard against her chest.

It was painful to see him like this. See him lose hope.

They went through the open doors of the Homestead, up the stairs and into a room where he started going ballistic again, grabbing the lamp on the bedside table and chucking it out the window. There was a crash outside and someone yelped.

"Minho..." she called softly.

"Two years we've been here," he spun around towards her. His face was contorted with rage and it made her shrink away. "Two shucking years we've been runnin' around that shuck maze tryin' to look for a way out. But there _isn't_ , you saw it! They're just toying with us; I bet that code doesn't even work!"

"Hey," she went to him and wrapped her arms around his middle, hoping that it would calm him down. It usually worked when he did it with her. "Don't give up now. We haven't tried everything yet."

"They're going to kill us, Cassie," he said numbly. "One by one, just like Gally said. We can't stop them."

She looked up at him and saw the despair take hold in his eyes. Her heart ached and she took in a shuddering breath. How does one comfort another human being? She felt terrible. Minho had always been there to make her feel better and she was completely useless. It felt like all she did was take from him, but she didn't know how to give back even when she wanted to.

"No, they won't," she told him firmly. "They won't."

"You always say no, Cassie," he sighed, brushing her hair. He turned away from her and sat down on the bed, burying his head in his hands. She bit her lip hard as she watched him, felt the skin tear.

"I'm being serious!" her voice cracked and she swallowed. He looked up at her, his face pinched. "We're so close, I can feel it. Everyone's working their butt off to find a way out. We have the clues- we just need to put them together. We just need to freaking get over ourselves!"

She didn't mean for that last part to come out but a tight ball of anger had suddenly lodged itself inside her chest and she was breathing heavily. Minho continued to stare at her silently with a darkened expression. Her lip started to tremble and she whirled around, heading for the door. She had just put her hand on the knob when Minho reached her so quickly she thought she had gone into another trance.

"Cassie," he murmured, his lips next to her ear. "Don't walk away from me."

He turned her around, pressing her against the door, and his face was just in front of hers. She could feel his breath against her skin and her eyelids fluttered close.

"Anything but that," he said and his warm lips were on hers.

She wrapped her arms around him as he deepened the kiss and she breathed him in, letting his entire presence consume her entirely. Her fingers dug into his back and she bit his lip, missing this. Missing him, even though he'd been by her side the entire time.

"Can I punch you?" she whispered and he smiled.

"Okay."

"Can I kick you?"

"Yes."

"Can I yell at you?" she dragged her lips down his throat, sucking hard against his skin, and leaving a small red mark there.

"Oh, my God," he groaned. "What are you doing to me?"

She grinned, pressing her mouth on the square of his jaw, thinking about how much she liked it. Especially when he clenched his teeth and the muscle would twitch just there. Why is it that only guys could do that? She had no idea. He pulled her away from the door, guiding her backwards towards the bed. Cassandra dropped onto it and he lied on top of her, pulling her hair back to expose her neck for him to trail his lips on.

She wondered if a person could die from pleasure. Her breaths were heavy as he slid his hands up her shirt. She pulled his face back up so she could kiss him, running her fingers along his sides. Would her heart explode from the way it swelled for him? His hand was tangled in her hair again and she clung to him, moulding her body against his. She didn't think she could live without him anymore.

* * *

She pressed her palm against his, marvelling at how much it eclipsed hers. His hand was rough; his fingers calloused from gripping the coarse handles of knives all the time. She threaded her fingers through his and brought his hand to her lips, leaving a soft lingering kiss on his knuckle.

"Did you sleep?" he asked, voice groggy as he played with her hair, twirling the ends with his free hand.

"Yeah, a little," she replied. It was almost evening, according to their watches. It'd be time for the Doors to close soon during normal sun hours, and they'd have to surrender the room to the Gladers. She was also curious about the code, had they managed to crack it yet? But she didn't want to move; who knew when she'd be able to lie with Minho again like this?

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"You, of course," she turned to him with a playful smile. "Always you."

"I know I'm irresistible," his smirk matched hers.

"What do _you_ think about?"

"How beautiful you are," his finger stroked her cheek gently. "Wow, that was lame as shuck."

"You're such a loser," she wrinkled her nose and he laughed. He reached up, placing a hand behind her head and pulling her closer so their lips could meet. She kissed him softly at first, then sensually, and soon he had rolled on top of her. His shirt had come undone earlier, and she pressed her hands against the hard muscles of his abdomen. He was perfect, everything about him was flawless, and she greedily claimed him as her own. His toned chest, the blades of his shoulders, the curve of his neck, his back and arms, they were all hers.

She felt his hand sneak up her shirt again, slide all the way up her side and his fingers dug into her skin right at the top of her ribcage. He inhaled deeply and his hand fell away, back down her side, over her hip and stroked her thigh. Burning with a sudden intense desire, she scraped her nails over his back and arched her body towards him. He broke their kiss, gasping quietly, and buried her face against her neck, lips moving across her skin.

"Minho," she whispered. "I..."

She stopped when there was a loud knock on the door and he looked over his shoulder. Newt's voice floated through the wood, sharp and clear.

"I know what you two are doing in there," he said. "So I'm _not_ going in. It's time for dinner and everyone's gonna pack into the Homestead again so get your butts downstairs."

There was the sound of his heavy footsteps turning away and stomping down the creaky stairs, then the front door closed with a loud snap. Minho turned back to her with a petulant expression and sighed. She sat up and ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to tidy it somewhat. His arms snaked around her from behind and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"You were saying something before Newt interrupted," he said.

"Huh?" she started. "Oh. Um... it was nothing."

"Really? You weren't trying to declare your love for me or anything, were you?" he smirked.

"In your dreams," she nudged him with an elbow, but her heart skipped a beat. "Come on, I'm starving."

"As you wish, Princess," he gave her a peck on the cheek before jumping off the bed. They headed downstairs, stepping into the kitchen and immediately located their blonde friend. He was squeezed against the wall on the right with Thomas, Teresa and Chuck.

"Finally cooled down, have you?" he looked at Minho after they forced their way through the crowd and sat next to them. "Or at least changed into a different kinda steam."

"Huh?" Chuck frowned in confusion.

"Let it go, Chuck, let it go," Thomas advised.

"Yeah, until _someone_ interrupted," Minho looked pointedly at Newt who just smiled.

Cassandra turned to Teresa on her right. "Did you manage to figure out the code?"

"Yeah," the other girl said excitedly and pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. "It's just a bunch of words though, we don't really know what it means yet."

There were only six words written down: FLOAT, CATCH, BLEED, DEATH, STIFF, PUSH. She took the paper and examined the words, trying to find some kind of hidden connection in her disorganised memory banks. But nothing came to her as she repeated the words in her head, imprinting them to her schemata.

"They sound pretty grim to me," Minho commented beside her.

"You said the last word," Thomas pointed. "Back at the Cliff when you spazzed out. You said Push, Open, Gone. Think there's a link?"

"But the Maze doesn't spell anything out after Push," Teresa told them. "It just goes back to the first word every time."

"Still, better to remember it than to be sorry later on," he said. "Her visions predict stuff, we should look out for anything related to them."

"They usually never help," she sighed in frustration as she handed the code back to Teresa. "It might get you killed."

Just like Nick, she added in her head. They discussed the words a bit more before having a hastily prepared dinner of tomato soup and biscuits. Only the sink in the kitchen was working, which was a small mercy, as Cassandra went to wash her face.

Evening rolled over them and they all packed into the Homestead, deciding to rotate their sleeping spots each night. Their usual group sans Chuck huddled together in the living room, against the wall furthest from the windows. Cassandra shared a blanket with Minho, wrapping it tightly around the both of them as they tried to sleep.

The clicking and whirring came at the same time as the last, a couple of hours past midnight. Everyone started and pressed themselves into a tight group, trying to remain as silent as was humanly possible. Thomas and Teresa were on the other side of Newt, with Cassandra and Minho on his left. She clutched Minho's arm tightly, and strained her senses against the oppressive nervous atmosphere.

Then there was a boom upstairs, the sound of wood and glass shattering, along with the screams of fleeing boys.

"It took Dave!" someone yelled loudly and there was another ripping explosion through the house.

Cassandra scrambled forwards, her heart hammering against her chest with the single thought of saving the poor boy, but Minho caught her before she could get very far. She struggled against his strong arms, and he covered her mouth when she started making sounds from her vain efforts at escape. It was like something inside her had snapped, and she had to- _needed_ to- keep everyone safe.

Thomas suddenly jumped up, making everyone stop to stare at him as he ran across the room and yanked the door open. Newt yelled for him to stop, but he just continued running like he was possessed with madness. The four of them got up and ran after him towards the entrance of the Homestead; there was a giant hole where the front door used to be as the Griever had torn through it.

Minho continued to hold her tightly against him in case she had an urge to bolt as well. They stopped just outside the building and continued to watch in horror as Thomas ran through the field after the Grievers.

"What is he doing?!" Newt exclaimed, grasping at his hair. "Has he lost his bloody mind?!"

"Thomas!" Minho yelled. "Get back here, you're gonna die, shuckface!"

Cassandra gaped as the boy threw himself at the Griever that held Dave. There was a shriek and the horde of monsters clustered around him, flailing their arms and attachments everywhere in the air. They could all see the needles pricking him on almost every inch of his body, then he was rolling away from them and running back towards the Homestead.

The Grievers paused; looking as if they were confused with the situation, then gave up and continued on their way back into the Maze. Thomas fell to the ground with a loud grunt and they rushed towards him. Chuck, Clint and a few others came to help as well, and everyone was yelling over each other at the boy.

Minho and Newt hoisted him up by the arms and legs, then brought him back into the building and set him down on a couch inside.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Newt yelled at his face. "How could you be so bloody stupid!"

"Dude, you got stung like a hundred times," Cassandra said, grabbing his head and shaking him so he'd stay awake for a few seconds longer. "Your death wish is showing again!"

Clint finally came back with the Grief serum and jabbed the metal syringe into his arm. She wasn't sure whether one was enough; his entire system must be filled with poison by now. Teresa kneeled by the sofa and squeezed his ankle, her face filled with worry and distress. Cassandra could tell that she was speaking into his head; she'd been unusually quiet the entire time.

"Don't... worry..." Thomas rasped. "I did it... on purpose..."

Then he completely passed out. Newt asked her what he'd just said and she looked up at him with an exasperated look.

"He did it on purpose, the shuck idiot."

The blonde smacked his face with his palm and walked away. She dropped Thomas' head back onto the couch and stood up, glancing to Minho whose expression mirrored her own. He walked over, took her hand and led her back to the living room to curl up in a corner. The others were still going around, inspecting the damage and checking on everybody else.

"Hey," he lifted her chin up so she was looking at him properly. "What were you trying to do before Thomas ran off?"

"I don't know either," she frowned. "It was like... an instant reaction and I couldn't stop it."

"Are you gonna do it again?" he asked.

"I don't know," she shook her head and averted her gaze. "Maybe."

"I'll just have to tie you down or something then," he joked.

She turned back to him, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Tie me down? Minho, I didn't think you were the type."

He bit his lip and squeezed her tightly then buried his face in her neck, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. A grin broke out over her face and she thanked whatever gods were out there that no one was around to see them fooling around amidst all the turmoil. A moment later, he leaned back and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"This is exactly why I fell for you," he smirked.

"Yeah, you're so in love with me," she said carelessly as she snuggled herself against him.

"I totally am," he whispered, nudging her cheek with his nose.

She paused then turned her head upwards. "Me too."

Then he kissed her.

Darkness surrounded them, and a biting cold wind howled through the gaps in the wooden shack they'd found. They didn't dare to make a fire, afraid that it might attract unwanted visitors so they merely huddled close together and shared their warmth.

It'd been years since the sun charred the earth, but the elements were still unstable. Lightning flashed overhead and the distant rumble of thunder cracked through the air. They were alone and unprotected now, surviving on what meagre knowledge their eleven years of life had to offer. They stole, and fought, and killed when they had to.

Live. It was the last thing her father had told them and it was the only thing that had kept them going on for this long. They'd been lucky so far, being young had its advantages too and they were mostly ignored by both the deranged and lucid alike. But it was still a hard life; one filled with misery and toil.

She didn't know if they could last any longer, they were both so tired.

So tired of everything.

Her eyelids remained firmly shut as the clamour outside grew louder, a tempest of moans and roars. It felt like the sounds were closing in on them, drawing nearer with each passing second, and her heart was beating frantically like the sound of drums that only added to the crescendo.

It was sometime in the early morning, just as the sun was about to rise through the cracks of the horizon beyond. The calm before the storm, she would always say- when the world looked like how it was supposed to be; serene and beautiful. But fragile, like a piece of rose tinted glass with the light shining through.

Only the slightest of disturbance would be able to shatter its allure, a scream of exquisite agony and pain ripping through the tranquillity of silence.

She opened her eyes and saw Minho peering back at her lethargically. In the room next door, Thomas was going through the Changing.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

When my chapter titles start getting translations, you know stuff is gonna get reeeaaaalllll.

BTW if anyone is curious about my chapter titles, they're all taken from Greek Tragedies written by Sophocles. Most of them are random, except for important chapters like in XXVIII: Priam, when Thomas finally arrives. King Priam was the father of Cassandra of Troy. So I equated Priam with Thomas because he was Cassie's guardian.

I know, I'm a huge freaking nerd but I feel so proud of myself when everything matches. This entire story is actually based on Greek mythology!


	46. ODYSSEUS

**ACT I SCENE XLVI  
ODYSSEUS MAINOMENOS  
(ODYSSEUS GONE MAD)**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA SCRATCHED THE BACK** of her head as she surveyed the damage from the night before. The kitchen was a total mess after the Griever had cut a hole through the ceiling and rammed through the wall to the front of the Homestead. From upstairs, Thomas continued to scream in pain. Everything this boy did just annoyed her, and she found herself scowling in the direction of his voice.

Frypan cried out loud when he discovered one of his precious frying pans was left unharmed as he rummaged through the debris. She just wanted food; her stomach was trying to eat itself after she'd spent the entire morning helping the others get Thomas under control. He kept wigging out like a maniac, his skin and veins filled to the brim with whatever disease was inside them while screaming nonsense at everyone.

"Fry!" she whined. "Just throw me some biscuits or whatever!"

"Biscuits got smashed up," he said, going on all fours and peering underneath some planks. "Got some dust covered cookies right here though."

She threw her head back, groaned in dismay and walked out; heading towards the Gardens instead to pick some fruits while grumbling under her breath. Lucky for her, Zart was there to help and about fifteen minutes later, she returned to the Homestead with a huge basket full of fruits. She dumped them on the table upstairs, shooting another annoyed glance at Thomas who was bound with ropes to the bed.

The boys were quickly on the pile in a second and Cassandra walked over to hand an apple to Teresa who hadn't left Thomas' side since he got stung. She took a bite of her own and leaned against the wall with her arms crossed.

"So," she raised her voice over the loud wailing. "What are we gonna do?"

"We just gotta wait till he shuts up," Newt yelled. "Bloody idiot."

"I'm thinkin' we should continue checking out the Maze," Minho said. "Try and look for that magic exit."

"Yeah, I gave Lee and the others the go ahead at wake-up," she winced when the wail suddenly got high pitched. "Come on, can we just stuff his freaking hole or something?!"

"He keeps choking on the rag," Newt rolled his eyes. "Like he's doin' it on purpose."

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised," she made a disgusted face.

"The variables!" Thomas suddenly gasped. "We need to manipulate the variables to get the data! The activity in Point Zero, that's what we should look for-" And he yowled like a dying cat once more.

"I am so sick of this!" she yelled, throwing her hands in the air. "Minho, let's go!"

He didn't have to be told twice to follow her out of the room and down the stairs. Once they were outside and halfway across the field, the screams became distant and she breathed a sigh of relief. Minho dangled his arms over her shoulders and rested his chin on her head while sucking his teeth loudly in a bored manner.

"I think my shucking ears are still ringing," he said after a while.

"Yeah, mine too." They stood in the middle of the Glade for a long moment in a half daze. She still wasn't used to the grey light and hated how they were stuck in this perpetual nothingness. Finally, Minho stirred and took his arms off her to step back. She looked at him expectantly and he raised his eyebrows in return.

"Runnin'?"

"Runnin'."

* * *

They spent their nights in the Maze, not even bothering to be careful anymore now that they knew the Grievers had probably been reprogrammed or at least not on a kill on sight basis anymore. They did everything they could think of, examining every inch of the Maze in the hopes of finding a clue. But they came back every morning empty handed to more disheartening news.

The Grievers had taken Zart.

Then Jim.

And Fitz.

For a brief moment, Cassandra had thought of going into the Griever Hole to retrieve them. But exactly what did the Grievers do with the boys they took? Did they eat them? Feed them to little Griever babies? She pushed the thought right out of her mind when she felt her stomach start to churn uncomfortably.

She turned around and squinted at the stupid pale light outside the tent, then buried her head back into the crook of Minho's neck. The boy squirmed and lifted his arm to wrap around her as he yawned widely. Then he glanced at his watch and groaned as it was sometime past the middle of the afternoon.

It was time for them to get up and head into the Maze, again. She didn't feel like there would be any use of them going out there anymore, but the other Runners weren't giving up just yet. And it'd probably be bad for morale if their star Keeper just lied around moping all day.

So back to the Maze they went after grabbing some food and supplies to go. The boys had managed to clean up the kitchen, the Builders patching the holes up as best as they could with whatever they had lying around. It looked incredibly sloppy, but at least it was sturdy enough. Her body was in a weird state, somewhere between exhausted and ready. They'd only been running for an hour when Cassandra suddenly grounded to a halt. Minho stopped in front of her and turned to look at the expression of shocked awe on her face.

"What is it?" he asked in concern.

" _Cass, can you hear me_?"

"It's Thomas," she said with wide eyes. "He's awake, and he's freaking talking in my head again, the damn shuck."

"What's he saying?" Minho came closer eagerly.

"Sorry, I just told him to shut up," she grimaced. "I can't help it. Let me try again."

She narrowed her eyes and concentrated on forming the words in her head and projecting them out towards the boy. It was like trying to fling imaginary stardust at a vacuum through space.

" _Have you learnt your lesson now?_ "

" _My head hurts but I think I'm okay_ ," he replied after a while. " _I just asked Newt to call for a Gathering; you guys need to get back. I think I know the way out._ "

"Oh."

"What? What?" Minho pulled his brows together impatiently. She told him what the other boy had said and he breathed out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank God. We can finally stop running around this shuck place like freaking chickens. C'mon, let's go."

They turned and started back towards the Glade at a brisk jog. After a while, Minho started in a breathy voice.

"So... how come you and Thomas speak in each other's heads?" he asked curiously.

"Jealous?" she shot him a grin and he rolled his eyes. "I can do it with Teresa too; she thinks that our brains got altered before we got here. But none of us know why it's just the three of us."

"That kinda sucks," he said, keeping his gaze in front of him. "I'd like to talk in your head too."

"Minho, that sounded super creepy out loud," she looked at him, aghast, and he laughed in disbelief.

"Admit it, you think so too," he retorted.

"It's weird though," she said. "We're supposed to share a connection, right? Like Thomas and Teresa. Maybe there's just something wrong with your brain and it won't work with you."

"You're so funny," he shook his head. "So what do you talk about with them?"

"Jea-"

" _Stop_ it," he groaned and she giggled.

"Mostly I tell them to shut up and leave me alone," she told him. "Unless they have something important to say."

"And then you tell me, right?" he looked at her again, trying to sound casual.

"I tell you everything," she reassured and they continued on their way through the endless corridors.

The Doors came into view and they could already see the Keepers gathered outside the Council Hall. They exchanged looks and headed towards the little group. Teresa was also there and she looked positively livid.

"No way, we're not letting her in," Alby folded his arms and glared at the girl.

"But I helped figure out the code, what'll it take for you to trust me?" she growled.

"We're not takin' any chances," Winston said behind their leader.

Newt and Thomas looked up as they approached and Cassandra put her hands on her hips as her gaze swept over them. The absence of Zart's tall hulking figure made her feel hollow inside.

"What's goin' on here?" she asked, panting slightly.

"They won't let me in to the Gathering," Teresa pointed with an angry pout.

"This isn't personal, okay? We're just being cautious," Clint told them.

Cassandra looked at the Keepers standing closely on the other side with firm faces, then to Newt and Minho who weren't really sure what they were supposed to do. Teresa still looked mad and Thomas seemed equally pissed off that they weren't letting his girlfriend join them.

She rolled her eyes and hooked Teresa's arm with her own, and pulled the girl with her towards the Council Hall. "Yeah, whatever, let's go." She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Alby yelled behind her but she ignored him as she settled the both of them down on the edge of the row of chairs.

Minho was already standing by her side protectively with his arms crossed and Newt shuffled over, rubbing his face with a hand, looking mortally embarrassed. Thomas quickly joined and they squared off with the rest of the Keepers.

"She is _not_ joining the Gathering!" Alby shouted, his eyes popping out of his head.

"Alby, look at her," Thomas gestured. "Look at all those pointy knives she has. Do you really wanna test her?"

"You think I give a shuck about her pointy knives?!"

Minho smirked in amusement and Cassandra gave her best impression of menacing nonchalance. They stared each other down until Winston interrupted. "I've seen her in the Blood House, and I don't wanna have my throat slit. Whatever, it's not worth it."

He walked past Alby and took his seat on the other side of the row. The other Keepers started filtering in after him and took their respective positions but Alby remained by the doorway, nostrils flaring as he continued to glare at them. Newt finally spoke up and persuaded the boy that Teresa was harmless, that they had a room full of boys to keep an eye on her anyway.

After a moment, he finally closed the door behind him and took his seat in the middle of the semi-circle. Thomas sat on the chair facing the rest of them and fidgeted nervously then looked up to give a small smile to Teresa, which she returned.

"Fine," Alby glowered darkly. "Start talking."

The boy grimaced and took a while to gather his thoughts before he told them about what he went through during the Changing. He told them that the Creators were testing them, that the Maze was never meant to be solved and it was all just a trial to pick out a handful of survivors for some kind of important task.

"What?" Newt asked blankly.

"Okay, let me start over," he sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Every single one of us were taken really young, I don't remember how or why- just glimpses that something really bad happened. They stole us from our families, figured we were special or something, then put us into special schools to live normal lives until they built the Maze. All our names are just stupid nicknames they made up- like Alby for Albert Einstein, Newt for Isaac Newton, and me- Thomas, as in Edison."

And Cassandra, the mad prophetic princess of Troy. She remembered that very first time she had introduced herself to them and had always wondered why she said that. It all made sense to her now and she looked down at the cracked ground as a weight pressed against her chest. She thought back to her dreams, those vague memories about her life before and tried to remember her real name. It had come up a few times but she could never recall it upon awakening.

"Our names..." Alby looked at him, flabbergasted. "They aren't even our real names?"

"What are you sayin'? Frypan asked. "That we're freakin' orphans raised by mad scientists?"

"Yeah," Thomas nodded and went on about how they were being studied to analyse their reactions to see who would make it to the end of the experiments. Most of the Keepers couldn't believe him; it was way too much for them to take in.

"Nick said the same thing though," Newt told them. "From what little slipped out before he always tried to kill himself."

"I went through the Changing too and I-" Alby started then stopped, looking around as if he made a mistake. "I-I didn't learn nothin'."

"I did," Cassandra said numbly. "I know exactly what he's talking about and believe me when I say I wish I didn't."

"It's because we're different," Thomas gestured. "You, me and Teresa. We can all speak telepathically, and we remember things that the others don't."

"So what's the bloody point of all this?" Newt asked.

"They want to test our reactions to the Variables," Thomas told him. "See if we'll work together, build a community. They made the Maze- one of the most common puzzles known to civilisation. Encouraging us to find a solution and magnifying our discouragement when we can't find one."

"What are you trying to say?" Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him.

"What I mean is..." he took a deep breath. "The Maze can't be solved."

Dissent broke out, everyone asking questions at the same time until it was just a collection of noise. Thomas held his hand up in an attempt to stop them, that they were just proving his point by reacting that way. "There's something different about all of us, somehow."

He set his face in a disgusted scowl. "Whatever the reason, it makes me sick! All of this- the Grievers, the walls moving, everything. We're just being used and manipulated. They're throwing crazy things at us to see our responses, test our limits. See if we'll turn on each other and weed out the weak."

"And killing people?" Frypan stood up in an outrage. "That a nice little part of their plan too?"

Thomas nodded his head slowly. "Yes, Frypan, killing people. The only reason the Grievers are killing us one by one is so we all don't die before it ends the way it's supposed to. Survival of the fittest. Only the best of us will escape."

The Cook kicked his chair in a burst of rage. "Well, you better start talking about this magical escape then!"

"He will," Newt snapped. "Just shut up and listen."

Minho cleared his throat and looked around with a deadpan expression. "Something tells me I'm not gonna like what I'm about to hear."

"Probably not," Thomas closed his eyes for a second and folded his arms while leaning back against his chair. "The Creators made a way out of here... but we have to earn it." He paused. "The code."

"The code?" Frypan looked up hopefully. "What about it?"

"It was hidden in the wall movements of the Maze for a reason. I should know- I was there when the Creators did it."

"Hold right up," Newt raised a hand. "What did you just say?"

"Um... well, Teresa and I are different in another way," Thomas repeated, almost sheepishly. "The reason why everyone who went through the Changing recognised me... we... we helped design the Maze. We helped create the whole thing."

The blonde whipped his head around to look at Cassandra for confirmation, as did everyone else. She started and shrank away, staring back at them in consternation.

"Stop looking at me like that," she snapped. "It's true, they designed the Maze. But with their memory wiped, there wasn't much they could have done. Until Golden Boy here went suicidal and went through the Changing, that is."

"Thanks so much, Cass," Thomas rolled his eyes.

"You're welcome," she shot back then turned to the girl beside her. "What about you, Teresa? Do you remember any of this?"

"Kind of..." she frowned. "I remember working in a lab, analysing things."

"There you have it," Cassandra gestured.

"But you're bloody sixteen year olds, how could you have created the Maze?" Newt asked.

"We were... smart, I guess. And I think it might be part of the Variables. They forced us to help, maybe to see if we could gain your trust. Maybe we were meant to be the ones to reveal how to escape. Whatever the reason, with your Maps we figured out the code and we need to use it now."

Cassandra looked around the room at all the baffled faces and turned to Minho who was smiling. He glanced at her and she could see the smugness behind those eyes, the 'I told you shanks so' in that stupid smirk.

"It's time for the final test. I just wanted you guys to know the truth, to know there's a chance we can do this."

Newt shook his head before looking up at the other Keepers. "The Creators- those shanks did this to us, not Tommy and Teresa. The Creators. And they'll be bloody sorry."

"Tell me about it," Cassandra snorted from the other side. "I'm gonna give them a nice piece of my mind."

"You mean your fist," Teresa chimed, and they exchanged grins.

"Whatever," Minho said impatiently. "Who gives a klunk about any of this? Just get on with the escape already."

"Okay, so Cass saw it before too," Thomas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and told them about the computer station that they needed to punch the code in to shut down the Maze.

"So where is it?" Newt snapped.

"It's almost suicide... the Grievers will come after us whenever we try to do it. All of them. The final test."

"And?" Frypan urged.

Thomas took another deep breath. "Over the Cliff. We have to go through the Griever Hole."

"I knew he was gonna say that," Minho slapped his knee and turned to look at Cassandra.

"So predictable," she shook her head as if she was commenting on a movie.

Alby suddenly shot up from his chair; his face was contorted with fury and his eyes completely bloodshot. He lunged at Thomas, grabbing the front of his shirt in his hands tightly and pulled him to stand.

"Fight Grievers? Jump off the Cliff?" he yelled. "You're just being a shuck idiot, or a traitor! What are you up to?!"

Newt and Winston shot forwards to restrain Alby and Thomas staggered backwards away from him. Everyone else stared at them; Alby had always been on the rough side but he'd always tried to show a bit of self-control.

"What am I up to?" Thomas repeated furiously, shock evident in his eyes. "I'm not up to anything! Why would I make this up?!"

"For all we know you were sent here to get us all killed!" Alby pointed at his chest. "Why should we trust you?"

"Alby, how hard did you hit your head?" he gaped at the other boy. "I risked my life to save you out in the Maze- you'd be dead if it wasn't for me!"

"Maybe that was a trick to gain our trust," Alby retorted. "If you're in league with those shucks out there, you wouldn't have to worry about the Grievers hurting you- maybe it was all an act!"

"Geezus, Alby, I thought you were a dumb shuck before," Cassandra said scathingly. "But you're really being something else right now."

"Alby," Minho started. "He just about got freaking torn apart three nights ago. You think that's part of the act too?"

The older boy nodded his head curtly. "Maybe."

"I did it," Thomas hissed, voice laced with annoyance. "On the chance that I could get my memories back, to help us all get out of here. Do I _need_ to show you the cuts and bruises all over my body?"

Alby just stood there, his face quivering with rage as he glared back. His eyes started to water and a vein appeared on his neck from the strain of it all. He struggled against Newt and Winston's grasps, breaking free and turning to the rest of the Keepers.

"We can't go back!" he wailed, flailing his arms desperately. "I've seen what our lives were like- we can't go back!"

"Is that what this is all about?" Newt asked. "Are you serious?"

The boy suddenly turned on him, holding up a clenched fist to lash out but stopped himself in time when he saw who it was. He lowered his trembling arm and sank back into his chair, burying his face in his hands. Then his entire body shook as he started to cry.

"Alby," Newt placed a hand on his shoulder in concern. "Talk to us. What's going on?"

"I did it," he said, voice muffled. "I did it."

"Did what?" the blonde pressed, looking completely bewildered.

"I burned the Maps," Alby looked up with tears streaming down his face. "I did it. I slammed my head on the table so you'd think it was someone else. I lied, burned it all. I did it!"

"Well, good thing we saved those Maps," Minho said casually. "Thanks for the tip you gave us after the Changing- to protect them."

The rest of the Keepers exchanged shocked looks, Winston quipped from the back that the mystery was now solved. It was no wonder that everyone who went through the Changing was afraid to talk about what they had seen if it was the same as what Cassandra had. She could use all the words in the human language that described horrifying and hopeless and it still wouldn't be enough. The boy was right to be scared.

"Alby..." she said in an uncharacteristically sympathetic voice. "I know. I've seen it too, hell; I relive it almost every night. It's bad out there, _real_ bad, but we're gonna die either way. And I would rather risk my chances out there than die a pathetic death right here."

"Then you should know we can't go back," the boy said- more like begged. "It's not worth it- the Flare. It was horrible."

"The Flare..." Thomas murmured and glanced towards Cassandra. He probably remembered her mentioning it before, that time when Ben had been Banished and she suddenly started screaming in pain.

"If we stay here, we'll all die!" Minho yelled at him. "It's worse than that?!"

Alby stared at him for a long moment, his eyes wide and tormented. "Yes," he whispered loudly. "It's worse. Better to die than go home."

"Man, you are one butt-load of sunshine, let me tell you," Minho snickered and leaned back in his chair. Cassandra just wanted to fawn all over him but that would be inappropriate. "I'm with them. I'm with Thomas and Cassie one hundred percent. If we're gonna die, let's freakin' do it fighting."

"Inside the Maze or out of it," Thomas added. "We still live inside that world, you know."

Alby stood again but with a look of utter defeat on his drawn face and he looked to the ground sadly. "Do what you want," he said. "Doesn't matter. We'll die no matter what." Then he walked to the door and left.

Newt sighed remorsefully as he watched his friend leave. "Never been the same since... must've been one bugger of a memory. What in the world is the Flare anyway?"

"I don't care," Minho interjected. "We'll deal with whatever's out there when we're out there. But for now, we only got one thing to do. Go through the Griever Hole and escape. If some of us die, so be it."

"We can do it," Teresa spoke up. "I'm sure we can, they wouldn't plan it this way if we couldn't."

"You shanks are crazy!" Frypan threw his hands in the air. "This idea of hanging out with the Grievers in their bachelor pad sounds as stupid as anything I've ever heard in my life. Might as well slit our wrists."

The other Keepers started again, rising from their chairs and arguing with each other until Newt screamed for everyone to shut up. Thomas continued again when they quieted down. "I'm going through the Hole or I'll die trying. Looks like Minho and Cass will too. And I'm sure Teresa's in." The girl nodded her head in agreement. "If we can fight the Grievers long enough for someone to punch in the code and shut them down, we can go through the door they came through. We'll have passed the tests and we can face the Creators themselves."

"You make it sound like a freaking video game," Cassandra planted her palm on her face.

"You think we can fight off Grievers, eh?" Newt smirked humourlessly. "Even if we don't die, we'll probably all get stung, then what?"

"I don't think they'll sting us," Thomas said unexpectedly. "The Changing was a Variable meant for us while we lived here, but that part is over now. Plus, we _might_ have one thing going for us..."

"Will you stop with the freaking suspense already?" Cassandra threw a ball of paper at him and it smacked him on the shoulder. "Just spit it out, god!"

He turned to give her an exasperated glare before continuing. "I think the Grievers have been programmed to only kill one of us each day. So somebody can sacrifice himself to save the others while we run to the Hole. I think they intended for this to happen."

"Okay, now shut up," she snapped. "That's shucking stupid."

"Are you asking us to throw some poor kid to the wolves so the rest of us can escape?" Winston scoffed out a laugh. "This is your brilliant suggestion?"

"Yes, Winston," Thomas rolled his eyes. "I'm so glad you understand. But it's obvious who that poor kid should be."

"Oh, yeah? Who?"

Thomas folded his arms and braced himself. "Me."

Cassandra threw her entire notepad at his head this time.


	47. MOUSAI

**ACT I SCENE XLVII  
MOUSAI (THE MUSES)**

* * *

 **"YOU'RE LEAVING,"** Newt stood up and started pushing Thomas towards the door. "Now."

"Leaving? Why?" he craned his neck to look around at the boy.

"You've said enough," the blonde told him. "We need to decide what to do now- without you. We'll talk later."

He then turned back and gestured to Teresa. "You too, wait for us by the Box."

The girl started to get up but Thomas reached back to grab hold of Newt's arm. "You gotta believe me, Newt. It's the only chance we have to get outta here."

"Yeah, I especially loved the part where you volunteered to kill yourself," he hissed in Thomas' face. "Again!"

With that, he pushed the both of them out of the room, then came back in a moment later and shut the door with a curt snap. Cassandra stood up to retrieve her notepad and stood in the middle of the Gathering and patted the dirt off it. She looked up as Newt walked over and stood next to her with his arms folded.

"Is there really anything left to discuss?" she asked, scrunching her face up. "We're just wasting time here, we need to sort weaponry- I'm thinking big pointy spears. And we got all those arrows too, who's good with arrows?"

"You are way too enthusiastic about this," he turned to her with a frown and she shrugged.

"That's my Cassie," Minho smiled at her proudly from his perch.

"I agree," Winston spoke up and stretched his limbs. "We need to prepare."

"Hold up," Frypan protested. "Who said we all agreed to this?"

"I don't see why we shouldn't?" Winston cocked an eyebrow. "Stay here and definitely die, or make a run for it and _maybe_ die?"

"Maybe we should think about this some more," Clint suggested.

"Dude, what else do you need to think about?" Minho turned to him. "They're just gonna keep killing us if we don't do this."

"One by one," Frypan pointed. "If we go there guns blazing, _all_ of us could die."

"You guys are so cheerful," Cassandra rolled her eyes. She unsheathed one of her knives and held it up to make an extra point. "We're gonna fight. Who cares about dyin'? We're doin' this to live."

"While dyin' at the same time," Winston snorted. "Or at least one of us will."

"You're so optimistic, Wins," she sighed and went back to her seat next to Minho. "Whatever, we're gonna do this with or without you shanks."

He draped an arm around her shoulders and smirked. "So when do we plan on doing this?"

"Tonight," Newt said and a few eyebrows rose in surprise. "If someone's gonna die either way, let's not waste it. We'll go tonight when the Grievers are hopefully all out in the Maze."

"Are you shucks seriously sure about this?" Frypan frowned.

"Yes, Fry, we are seriously shucking sure about this," Minho sighed. "How many times do you need us to say it?"

"I think it's the best chance we got," Newt said. "They're right, even if we stay here, they're just gonna keep killing us. It's about time we make a bloody stand."

The Cook sighed and after a moment, he finally nodded his head. "Alright, fine, I'm in." Then the rest of the Keepers murmured their agreements as well.

"Good that," Minho nodded. "There's still somethin' left to do though. We need to convince the rest to go with us."

Newt nodded back and turned to the others. "Keepers, you'll discuss it with your groups. I'll convince the rest and hopefully the majority will be up for it. Then we'll organise ourselves, sort out supplies and weapons. Who knows what's waiting for us on the other side?"

Cassandra grunted. "Someone to punch, I hope."

"Seriously, Minho, control her," Newt rolled his eyes at her bravado.

"I like her like this," the Runner smirked wider.

"It's all your bloody influence," the blonde shook his head. "She wasn't half this bad when she first came up, a bit snippy but still tolerable-"

Someone cleared their throat loudly and they turned to look at Frypan again. "Can we get back to basic here?" he asked and they started discussing the details of their little night operation.

Once they had a rough plan ready, they prepared themselves for the gruelling tasks ahead and walked out of the Council Hall. Newt immediately ran off to tell Thomas and Teresa the news while the rest of the Keepers went off to herd their boys. Cassandra went with Minho to look for the rest of the team and they gathered in front of the Map Room.

The Keeper of the Runners stood in front of them and announced the plan, keeping the explanations simple. As expected, they were all up for it and not one of them had any doubts about their plan except that more than one boy might die. But it was still plain as day that they would try anything to find a way out; it'd been their single goal from Day One when each of them became Runners.

Then they split up to gather supplies and prepare for the long night ahead. Cassandra went to the Builders, getting them to help her sort out the weapons and figure out who should handle each one. It was a relief to find that most of the Gladers were up for it, even though they were probably banking on the chance that only one unlucky shank needed to die. Those who refused had given up on yelling and avoided the whole lot of them.

Minho jogged up to her while she was examining the stockpile of pointy objects and told her that they were heading out to test the Cliff.

"You don't have to come along," he assured her. "We'll just be throwing rocks attached to vines and see if it'll hold."

"Are you sure? What if the Grievers think you're trying to escape?" she frowned.

"Doubt it, not when they know that everyone's preparing to charge in," he looked out at the frantic activities around the Glade. "We'll be fine."

"You sure?" she bit her lip worriedly and he reached out to squeeze her arm.

"Yeah, it'll be real quick," he said. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Okay," she breathed out. "Just run if you see 'em coming."

"Will do," he gave her a peck on the cheek before rushing off to the Doors where Lee and three other Runners stood waiting for him.

She wrung her hands and turned back to the weaponry. The air was filled with nervous anxiety and she could see the fear in everyone's eyes despite the brave masks they put on. All her previous bluster had worn off and she felt genuinely nervous as she mulled over the different scenarios in her head.

Taking a deep calming breath, she turned back to Matt who had taken charge in place of Gally. He'd always been a nasty one but was now surprisingly cooperative ever since they exited the Gathering. They had fashioned spears from whatever they could find; poles, shovels and long branches chopped off from trees, attached with knives or barbwire, or pieces of glass.

Thomas wandered over to her as she supervised the Builders handing out the makeshift weapons to the Gladers who were going. She had all her knives strapped on, a bow and quiver of arrows over her shoulder, and one of the sturdier spears in hand. He thought she looked like a warrior going out to battle as she stared intensely into the distance.

"Hey," he stepped closer. "How's it going?"

"Great," she replied, her voice laced heavily with sarcasm. "Super."

He threaded carefully, not wanting to upset her when she was so close to that many lethal items to make him into a pincushion. "We'll get through this," he tried but she snorted.

"Uhuh," she looked at him, almost coldly. "How many of us? What if they decide that one boy isn't enough for this final test of theirs?"

"It's still the only chance we have," he told her.

She grit her teeth before sighing and her eyes melted to concern. "I don't want them to die anymore. I've had enough of people dyin'."

"I know it's hard," he said. "But if we don't do this, they'll all just die in vain anyway."

She frowned and plucked off a small splinter from her spear then turned back to him with a thoughtful expression.

"When you went through the Changing," she started. "You mentioned Point Zero. Gally and Nick did too. I can't figure it out, what does it mean?"

Thomas furrowed his brows as he recalled the meaning of the phrase, then started slowly as if it was some kind of forbidden secret. "It's a part of the brain," he said. "An important part, something that has to do with the whole trial."

"Why is it so important?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "It just is."

She hummed and looked up when she spotted figures coming through the Doors, she recognised Minho's outline even from the distance. Relief flowed through her and she finally perked up now that he was back within her sight, her confidence instantly returning once again.

"Okay, enough dawdling, Golden Boy," she nudged him with her spear. "Get back to work. There's still loads to do."

He shot her a look and she smirked back. Minho jogged up to them, smiling in satisfaction, and Newt joined a second later. The Runners had tested the Hole, and they were definitely sure that it was some kind of exit. "We can do this," he told them. "Just make sure nobody falls the wrong way."

They nodded before dispersing again into the bustle. Cassandra immediately started to equip Minho and the other Runners with her selection of weaponry, making sure they knew what they were doing. She'd decided to be on the front lines and had armed herself to the teeth. The only thing she hoped for was that the innate fighting skills her body remembered wouldn't fail her in times of need.

She went to get some water and Chuck was there handing out bottles to people. All she managed was a small smile and ruffled his hair fondly. He tried not to show it, but he was terrified. Frypan had prepared one last meal for them- she loathed to use the word- and everyone gathered around the field to eat. She sat cross-legged on the ground with Minho in their tent, taking the opportunity to have a little alone time with each other before the inevitable happened.

"So... this is it, huh?" she sighed.

"This is it," he echoed. "We're finally gonna get out of this shuck place."

Cassandra smiled at his unbridled optimism but concern continued to gnaw deep on her insides. The most important thing in the world for her was that he made it out safely and she vowed to herself to protect him- even at the cost of her own life, as dramatic as that sounded. He reached over and squeezed her hand, as if he could read her thoughts, which most of the time was the case. Maybe he actually was telepathic, but in a different way.

"Don't do anything stupid," he told her. "Stay by my side, okay?"

"You too," she said. "If you die, I'll kill you."

His mouth curved into that stupid smirk she adored so much and he leaned forwards to catch her lips with his. She wanted time to stop right then, hating herself for thinking that this might be their last kiss; one final moment they'd be able to share with each other. Her fingers gripped his shirt tightly as she deepened it, pouring her entire soul into that one singular instant.

Then they pulled back slowly, reluctantly, and he ran his fingers through her hair like how he always did as they gazed into each other's eyes. Alby shouted from outside, calling for all the Gladers to assemble.

It was time to go.

* * *

" _Cass? Where are you?_ " she heard Teresa's call in her mind.

" _By the West Door, come,_ " Cassandra replied, as if it were a normal occurrence.

A moment later, the blue-eyed girl meandered through the crowd of boys towards her and Minho. She crouched on the ground with them and told them about their plan to punch the code into the computer but they'd need a backup in case anything happened. Cassandra nodded in understanding, that if something went wrong, they'd be able to communicate telepathically then someone else would need to go down the Hole to punch the code. She hoped it didn't have to come down to that.

Thomas found his way over to them and they stood up.

"You shanks ready?" Minho asked. "Thomas, this was all your idea, so it better work. If not, I'll kill ya before the Grievers can."

"Thanks," the other boy replied then turned his attention to Teresa. "You okay?"

She was fidgeting next to Cassandra, looking anxious, but she gave a small smile at him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just want to get it over with."

"Amen, sister," Minho said.

Newt called for everyone's attention as he stood in the middle of the entrance of the Doors with a pole wrapped in barbwire. A hush settled over the Gladers as they looked towards him. "They're forty-one of us. Make sure you all got your weapons. Other than that, there's not a whole lot to say. We're gonna fight our way through to the Griever Hole, and Tommy's gonna punch in his little magic code and then we're gonna get payback on the Creators. Simple as that."

"Shouldn't someone give a pep talk or something?" Minho asked.

"Go ahead," Newt gestured for him to do so.

The Runner turned to face the ragtag army in front of him and nodded with a completely straight face. "Be careful. Don't die."

"Great. We're all bloody inspired."

"I like it," Cassandra commented on the side. "Short and sweet."

"I thought you would," Minho replied drily.

"Okay, so you all know the plan," Newt went on. "After two years of being treated like mice, tonight we're makin' our stand. Tonight we're gonna take the fight to the Creators, no matter what we have to go through to get there. Tonight the Grievers better be scared."

They erupted into cheers, some clapped, and their voices carried in the air like a growing storm that culminated into battle cries. She felt the smirk grow on her face, saw Minho mirroring it as he squeezed her hand. Whatever fear she had fled from the rising fire inside her, fanned by the gallant roars all around them.

Newt lifted his spear and yelled. "Hear that, Creators? We're coming!"

Then he turned and ran into the Maze and they were on his heel in a heartbeat. She felt the adrenaline surge through her veins, making her body tremble from excitement but she didn't care. They went into the dark twisting depths under the pale leaden light with everyone rushing forwards behind them. This was it, one more push to freedom.

Ride or die.


	48. SYNDEIPNOI

**ACT I SCENE XLVIII  
SYNDEIPNOI (THE BANQUETERS)**

* * *

 **RED BEAMS SHONE** all around them through the thicket of ivy that consumed the walls of the Maze, beetle blades in all directions to watch them- study them. They ran with breath-taking speed but some of the other Gladers were starting to slow down, panting heavily, as they fell to the back of the group.

Minho was in the lead now and she ran in pace beside him, staying close by his side. Always by his side, since probably the day she laid eyes on him if her memories were any hint. Her mind wandered, as her feet steadily stomped against the hard stone floor, whether fate actually existed. It was such a silly notion, something hopeless romantics or starry-eyed idealists would believe in. Yet she wondered at the possibility of it, clung to the thread of hope that bound them together despite everything that they had been through.

Surviving a barren world that had gone mad, surviving WICKED, and now the Maze.

Will they ever catch a break?

They stopped and she took the opportunity to catch her breath, inhaling deeply through her nose. Minho raised a hand up to signal for the rest to do the same and they waited on him as he turned around with a look of apprehension on his face.

"Do you hear that?" he whispered.

"No, but I smell it," she replied.

He edged towards the corner, the last turn that led towards the Cliff, and peered around it before pulling back with a pained expression.

"Oh, no," he moaned. "Oh, shucking, no."

She refrained to take a look for herself and let him describe the scene for them; it must be pretty bad if he was reacting like that.

"There're at least a dozen of 'em. Maybe fifteen- all waiting for us."

"Perfect," Cassandra said with evident sarcasm. "What great hosts they are for seeing us off."

Thomas stared at her as if she had just turned into a giant fire breathing snake or something. "This is not the time, Cass," he hissed.

Alby and Newt moved towards them, and they both had terror in their eyes as the news had spread across the entire unit. "Well, we knew we'd have to fight," Newt said, with an air of forced confidence.

"Maybe they've taken a kid back at the Glade," Thomas said. "Maybe we can get past-"

A loud shriek cut him off, coming out of the direction they had ran up from. A group of Grievers skittered down the corridor heading straight at them, their claws digging into the ground and leaving tiny indents with their metal spikes glinting through the air.

From the other end of the corridor, another group of Grievers had swarmed upwards to meet them. The Gladers drew back into a tight formation and Cassandra inched backwards so that when she looked behind her shoulder, she could see into the open intersection leading towards the Cliff where the third group of monsters whirred and pulsated in wait.

She gripped the spear in her hands and pointed it outwards with the rest of them, eyes wide and locked onto the disgusting creatures as they stopped at the end of each corridor.

"Any ideas?" Thomas asked after a while.

"No," Newt replied. "What are they bloody waiting for?"

"We shouldn't have come," Alby said, his voice hollow. He didn't look like the boy she had vehemently despised anymore, just an empty shell of the leader they had once looked up to. "Maybe... maybe I should..."

He took a step forward into the corridor that led to the Cliff. Cassandra's eyes widened just as Newt called for him to come back but Alby didn't hear him- or maybe he couldn't. He just took off, running headlong into the swarm of Grievers.

"ALBY!" Newt screamed beside her.

She didn't register it in her brain, couldn't comprehend that he was racing to his own death. The Grievers grabbed him with their metal pincers, crushing him and tearing him apart limb from limb until he was nothing more than a smear of blood on the rough stone. Alby was gone, just like that, and she didn't know how to feel about it except for a numbness that seeped into her bones.

Thomas struggled with Newt, holding on to him so he wouldn't go after his friend and die the same gruesome death. The boy finally collapsed to the ground, staring blankly at the spot where he'd seen Alby disappear. "I... I can't believe..." his voice shook pitifully. Remorse stabbed her, only for the misery in Newt's eyes.

They helped steady him back to his feet and Minho squeezed his shoulder. "We can't waste what he did. We'll fight 'em if we have to, make a path for Thomas and Teresa. You two get into the Hole and do your thing- we'll keep 'em off till you scream for us to follow."

Thomas nodded. "Hopefully they'll go dormant for a while. It should only take us a minute to punch in the code."

"How can you be so heartless?" Newt suddenly spat, his tone full of disgust.

"What do you want, Newt?" Minho snapped. "Should we all dress up and have a funeral?"

"I-I'm sorry, Newt," Cassandra swallowed, wishing she could just shake him out of it but knowing it wasn't as easy as that.

"Alby didn't wanna go back to his old life," Minho went on. "He sacrificed himself for us and the Grievers aren't attacking so maybe it worked." He then turned to face the others. "Okay, listen up, guys! Number one priority is to protect Thomas and Teresa. Get them to the Cliff and-"

The sound of engines revving to life surrounded them on all sides and the creatures stirred, picking themselves up once more to unfurl their metal appendages. Their bodies rolled and oozed as they started towards them, the clicking of their claws against the ground and the whirring of gears, combined with the shrieks of bloodlust bounced off the walls horrendously.

"It didn't work!" Cassandra yelled. "Brace yourselves!"

Thomas grabbed hold of her arm with a look of utter panic then turned to Minho as well. "We need to go through that!" he pointed at the squirming mass in front of them. They exchanged glances.

"They're coming!" Teresa screamed. "We have to do something now!"

"You lead," Newt whispered to Minho. "Cut a bloody path for 'em. Do it."

He nodded once, glanced at Cassandra, saw the determination on her face and raised his club with ferocious resolve. "Make for the Cliff!" he yelled. "Fight through the middle! Push the shucking things to the walls and remember, get Thomas and Teresa to the Hole!"

She could only hope the others had heard him over the pandemonium approaching them. Cassandra rearranged her pack and the bow over her shoulders, then gripped her spear tightly with both hands.

"Ready!" Minho yelled beside her and she closed her eyes to take a steadying breath, ignoring the knot in her stomach, the tremor in her arms and the painful drumming of her heart against her chest. "NOW!"

Her eyelids snapped open and she ran forward with Minho, heard the roar behind her as the Gladers stepped up to take the impossible challenge. She left all her thoughts behind and met the first Griever with a clang of metal against metal, screaming as she ducked her head from the saw that flew her way and drove the tip of her spear as far as she could, pushing the creature to the side with all her strength.

Boys ran past her in a stream of yells, clash of steel and splinter of wood. Burnt oil and sweat filled her nose as she dodged to the side, releasing a hand on her spear and drawing a knife to ram it deep into the top of the Griever's head. It screeched, the sound almost deafening her, and she pulled her spear out from its grasp to plunge deep into its neck.

There had to be some mechanism inside it that she could destroy or disable. She aimed at every possible spot she could find, dodging and rolling whenever something sharp came her way. She felt the lacerations across her skin, only deep enough to draw blood and cause pain, but as long as she could move her limbs, she continued to fight.

The point of her spear seared through the greyed skin of its belly, through the soft tissue of its abdomen, right through to the back. With a grunt, she pulled it out and a wave of thick yellow goo burst forth into her face, almost making her retch. She stumbled away, blocking a knife-arm that flailed towards her as the Griever shrieked and started to convulse on the stone ground.

Cassandra wiped the putrid liquid from her face with her sleeve and watched as red dots of light flashed across its eyes. And she realised- the Grievers ran on fuel.

She grabbed her bow and knocked an arrow into place, then sent one flying across the corridor into the neck of a Griever that was bearing down on Jack. It reared onto its hind legs and the boy threw himself out of harm's way.

Turning around, she found Minho had just made his Griever explode after seeing what she had done. They exchanged smirks and he yelled to the others, reminding them to keep Thomas and Teresa safe, then telling them to aim for their bellies.

He sped off to help another Glader and Cassandra continued to aim her arrows, assisting wherever she could. Screams of help echoed all around her and she was lost amidst the chaos of it all, turning from left to right, dodging and parrying. She made sure that Minho was always within her sight.

Suddenly something slammed into her from the side and she felt the wind knocked out of her. She looked up in shock and saw a face sneering down- Andy. His eyes were filled with hatred and maybe madness.

"Where's your boyfriend to protect you now?" he mocked.

Disgust etched itself across her features as she scowled back, angry and annoyed that he would attack _her_ when there were freaking Grievers all around them.

"I don't need protecting, you jerk," she growled and smashed her elbow into the side of his head as hard as she could.

The boy swayed to the side from the blow and she kicked him off her, throwing his body to the side with a loud grunt. He scrambled to his feet, glaring at her with so much malice she didn't think was actually possible. Then a Griever swooped down on him, a blade slashing through his back, and picked him up with its pincers like a rag doll before flinging him to the side. She saw his head crack against the wall but there wasn't any time to gape as the creature chose her as its next victim.

She rolled away, picking up a long sword from the ground and lunged forwards again. They met with a loud clang and she knocked its arm away, rolling again to the side to avoid another with an axe attached to it. She threw a knife, aiming for one of its motors where it jammed itself between the gears. There was a sputter and taking the opportunity, she jabbed her sword into its abdomen, twisting it to the side before pulling out.

Then she ran away, not even bothering to look whether she had actually killed it or not, making her way down the corridor looking for Minho. She saw Newt had pinned a Griever against the wall up ahead with his spear, ducking in a spot where its appendages couldn't reach him. Cassandra rushed forwards and sliced through its belly before collapsing to the ground, narrowly missing the saw that went soaring through the air where her neck had been a second ago.

"Cass," the blonde looked at her with a grin. "Thanks."

She pulled herself away from the Griever twitching in the throes of its death and leaned against the wall. Her lungs strained from all the oxygen that she needed and she weakly reached for her bow again but her body was spent. She heard Clint's voice screaming from somewhere nearby and Frypan was hacking his cleaver through the head of a Griever to the side.

"When the hell... is the freaking code going to work?" she grounded out through her teeth.

Winston had picked up a bow and was missing his arrows ninety percent of the time. Another scream pierced through the air as a Griever grabbed hold of a boy in its pincers. Was there any end to this?

"There's a Griever going into the Hole!" Newt yelped and pointed. "And another one!"

"Thomas and Teresa!" she scrambled forwards but her legs wouldn't cooperate and she fell to the ground again with a jolt. "Where's Minho?!"

She saw Lee on the opposite side of the corridor, battling a Griever with furious tenacity. He ducked and swatted back its arms with fluid movements, as if he did it for a living. Then he thrust his knife into its middle with a flourish, slashing a large jagged gash across and the Griever shrieked as it crumpled down in a flood of yellow liquid.

"It's taking too bloody long!" Newt yelled. "Maybe we should-"

A collective beep resounded all around them at once and in unison, the Grievers froze. The shrieks and screams, the revving engines, the clang of steel- everything, fell into a dead silence. They looked around with wide-eyed hope, waiting to make sure that the Grievers had actually shut down. That Thomas and Teresa had done it at last, it seemed that they did.

Then a movement caught her eye; the Griever that Lee had just killed was still twitching uncontrollably. She yelled for him to watch out but he had his back turned and a large blade sunk itself through the middle of his torso. His eyes widened in surprise and he coughed up blood.

"LEE!" she screamed, scrambling towards him on all fours across the width of the corridor. The Griever finally halted and the boy dropped to his knees, half of the giant blade sliding out of his chest. "No, shuck, no," she cried as she reached him and pressed her hands against the gaping wound as he collapsed to the ground.

"C-Cass..." he choked, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. "Just... go. It's fine."

"Shut the hell up!" she yelled, her hands were stained crimson. "Stop talking! Save your breath!"

"Look after... them," he rasped. "Look after... Minho..."

He drew in a shuddering breath and then laid still, his eyelids closing heavily. She screamed and shook him, beating her fists wildly against his chest. Then someone was grabbing her from behind, dragging her away from his body.

"Cassie, stop," Minho turned her around and held her face between his hands. "Cassie! It's over!"

Only loud sobs replied him as the tears flooded down and she closed her eyes, afraid to look. Terrified to take in the scene of the aftermath, to see the faces of friends that she'd made in those six months of her life that she could ever remember being carefree. She couldn't.

His arms wrapped around her and she felt his warm lips against her neck. Her hand automatically went up to touch him, smearing blood on his cheek. Minho. He was fine and it made her open her eyes to look at him.

He was alive, breathing and whole, despite the cuts that lined almost every inch of his body and torn clothes. A fresh wave of sobs wracked through her body as she flung her arms around him.

"Cassie, let's go," he told her, smoothing her hair back. "Into the Hole. We need to check on them, find out what's goin' on. We can't stay here."

Choking back another sob, she forced herself to nod her head and he pulled her up to stand. She kept her gaze straight ahead to the empty void that was the Cliff as they walked over to it. They stood on the edge and there were vines dangling in mid air, some were still attached to the Cliff face, stretching along the pale grey sky with nothing to suspend them.

"I'll go first," he said just as Newt came up behind them. She heard more footsteps approaching but she didn't dare to look just yet, and nodded again to Minho.

He braced himself on the edge of the precipice and jumped, his feet disappeared then the rest of him. She merely stared at the spot until Newt prodded her back with a finger and she stepped forward. Cassandra took a deep breath and flung herself at the Hole. It was like slipping through a thin sheet of ice before her feet hit the ground. Minho caught her as she staggered forwards and she looked up to find Thomas, Teresa and Chuck huddled together in a tight hug.

At least they were okay. She leaned against the wall of some kind of tunnel; it was dark save for a faint green glow from the computer screen and Teresa's flashlight. She could see the outlines of dead Grievers in front of them.

"Are you guys okay?" Thomas shouted. "What about the others?"

"We lost a ton of guys," Minho replied. "It was a bloodbath up there before the Grievers shut down. I still can't believe it worked."

Then Newt swished down, and Cassandra reached out for him to grab hold of her arm before he could stumble. Frypan came next, then Winston, and the rest of the boys. Half of their numbers when they had started out from the Glade.

"The rest...?" Thomas asked, looking up at the Hole as if more would come. There wouldn't.

"Dead," Newt simply said.

She didn't want to think about it, she wanted out. Now. Cassandra wanted to get as far away from this place as she possibly could. But nobody moved, or even spoke, for a long time. Then she let out a sharp breath and Minho straightened up.

"Half of us might have died," he said. "But half of us shucking lived, and we didn't get stung. Now let's get out of here."

"Right now," Cassandra said.

"Right bloody now," Newt grunted in agreement.

"So where do we go?" Minho looked around, peering through the dark.

"I heard the door open from that way," Thomas pointed towards the opposite side of the tunnel.

"Well, let's go," the Runner turned and walked in the direction he pointed with Cassandra right behind him. Newt went after, motioning for the others to follow, and Thomas took up the rear of the line.

Darkness continued to lie ahead and Cassandra held on to the back of Minho's shirt as he led them. Only a minute had passed when he suddenly lurched forwards and she instantly tightened her hold on him, only to be pulled down as well. Her piercing screams echoed all the way up the slide until she slammed into Minho's back with a strangled cry.

"Are you guys okay?!" Newt shouted down from the top, his voice faint but the panic was still audible.

"Yeah, we're fine!" Minho yelled back as loudly as he could.

They stood up, wiping the thick goo off their skin in disgust, then turned to look around them. They were in a giant laboratory with all sorts of machinery and white pods surrounding them. There were windows lining the chamber with men and women looking out at them from within, their faces pinched with calculative eyes that stared back at them hungrily. Pens glided across notebooks in their laps as they observed them and taking down notes for later discussion. Cassandra stared in horror, as did Minho, and the next few minutes were spent in apprehensive tension as they waited for the others to come down.

Newt flew out from the chute and landed on the floor with an unhappy grunt. Frypan and Winston came next, then the rest of the Gladers, piling themselves in front of the little opening. Each of them yelling or grunting as they landed, some throwing up from the long spiralling journey. She would have laughed at them, if circumstances had been normal, but all she felt was a detached coldness. At last, Thomas came through and he crawled to the side to retch.

"Look!" someone finally shouted, and everyone turned their gazes to the front. A hush fell over them as the group shrank away from the observation windows.

"Who are they?" Chuck whispered in a tiny frightened voice.

"The Creators," Minho punched his fist into his palm. "I'm gonna break your shuck faces!"

Then a loud beep echoed around them, repeating itself and growing into a blaring alarm. A swish came down a corner of the chamber and Cassandra turned to look as the doors opened. The stupid alarm stopped then two people walked in- one was a woman with short brown hair, wearing a uniform with the word WICKED on the breast of her white shirt, and the other was a boy in an oversized hoodie, pulled up to obscure his face.

"Welcome back," the woman said, her voice an emotionless monotone. "Over two years, and so few dead. Amazing."

"Excuse me?" Newt asked venomously.

"Everything has gone according to plan, Mr. Newton," her eyes scanned the group of teenagers in front of her. "Although we expected more to give up along the way."

Then she reached up with her pale hand and pulled down the hood of the boy next to her. There was a collective gasp as every Glader finally saw his identity. Cassandra felt her jaw drop at the incredulity of their entire situation.

Gally was back again.

"What's he doing here?!" Minho yelled.

"You're safe now," the woman told them almost robotically. "Please, be at ease."

"At ease?!" Minho snarled. "Who the shuck are you to tell us to be at ease? We wanna see the police, the mayor, the president- whoever's in charge!"

"You have no idea what you're saying, boy. I expect more maturity from somebody who passed the Maze Trials," her tone became clipped and condescending.

"Who-" Cassandra grit her teeth before bellowing. "-the hell are you?!"

The woman merely stared back at them with narrowed eyes. "One day you will understand, and then you will be grateful for what we have done. I can only promise this, and if your minds do not accept this, then it was all a mistake."

"Gally?" Newt called. "What's going on?"

The boy shook his head, a mere jerk from right to left, and his eyes widened as his body started to tremble all over.

"There is one final Variable, however," the woman took a step back.

Cassandra could see the strain in his body, the twitch of his hands and his lips opened as if he was trying to tell them something. "T-they..." he finally choked out in a low gravelly voice. "Can control... me... I have... to..."

His hands flew to his throat and he croaked once before his body relaxed once more. Her eyes widened in horror at what was happening before them, at the chilling familiarity. They were controlling him- but for what purpose? Suddenly the boy pulled out a knife from his back pocket and before any of them could react, he threw it in their direction.

Minho pulled her away, but the knife wasn't heading towards her. It soared through the air, a whole two feet to her right, and she heard a shout from behind. She stood rooted to the floor, her gaze set resolutely in front of her, as someone screamed. A cascade of icy dread washed over her, sending goose bumps rising over every inch of her skin.

"Chuck!" she heard Thomas' anguished wail. "No, Chuck! Hang on! Someone get help!"

Then a small cough, filled with blood. "Thomas. Find my... mom. Tell her..."

A laboured wheeze, and silence. Her hands trembled. Someone rushed past, a blur of dark hair and blue, flying into Gally, knocking him to the ground. Her heart hammered. Thomas, punching the living daylights out of him, bone cracking against bone. Her stomach churned. Newt and Minho running forwards a moment later, grabbing him, pulling him away, as he screamed and flailed his fists in the air.

The grief.

"I promised him! I promised I'd take him home!"

The world shattering.


	49. CÔPHOI

**ACT I SCENE XLIX  
CÔPHOI (MUTE ONES)**

* * *

 **ENOUGH.**

Cassandra wanted it to end, she couldn't feel- her entire body was locked as if frozen in ice. The woman said something, about things happening for a reason, but she didn't care to listen. There was absolutely no good reason for everything that had happened up to that point. Was there even any meaning to their lives at all?

As if in answer to her silent question, gunshots broke out from outside the chamber. The woman whirled around, her pale face now devoid of all colour as a group of people burst through the doors. One of them tackled the woman to the ground, held his gun up and shot twice into her chest.

Someone pulled her back, Minho, she guessed, drawing her close to his body. The armed people shot barrages into the observation windows, there were screams and more blood. A man approached them; he looked worn despite his seemingly young age. He was speaking, but it was like she had lost her ability to grasp language. She saw his mouth open and close, his tongue forming consonants, his voice raising over the tumult- but she didn't understand a single damn word.

Then Minho was pulling her, running, and she moved her legs to follow. Her gaze swept around the room, at the broken glass and Chuck's lifeless body that would surely haunt her for the rest of her life. They went down a tunnel, up a flight of stairs, one after the other, then finally through a set of large glass doors and there was rain.

Everything was dark, even the sky above was a slate that poured down on them relentlessly. They were pushed onto a bus and she felt pressure in her ears so that now she actually _was_ deaf. She saw Thomas being pulled back by a crazed woman, her eyes bloodshot and yellow pus oozing down her wrinkled face from large sores.

One of the men grabbed the stranger and threw her away, as if she was nothing but a piece of trash. Thomas hurriedly went on the bus and took a seat next to Teresa opposite them. Minho was holding her hand, which was still shaking, probably calling her name.

The lunatic woman ran to the front of the bus, slapping her hands on its bonnet while the engines revved to life. Cassandra started as the bus lurched forwards, slamming into the woman and the wheels jolted upwards twice. The pressure in her ears popped and she could suddenly hear the downpour of rain tapping against the glass.

"She's been like this ever since Gally threw his knife," Minho was saying, a tremor in his voice.

"She's in shock," Thomas stated.

Teresa dropped to her knees in front of her and took her hands. She looked up with her big blue eyes filled with watery concern. "Cassandra?" she whispered. "It's okay now."

She merely stared back at the girl, wanting to respond but unable to do so. Her chest ached- it hurt so much like her heart had just been ripped out and her hands wouldn't stop trembling. Minho pulled her into his arms again, burying her head into his chest as he squeezed her tightly.

"Please, Cassie, come back," he begged softly in her ear. " _Please._ "

She closed her eyes, allowing his warmth to seep into her bones. The bus went over a bump and everything started to melt away but the screams continued to echo in her ears.

"Make it stop," she whispered before consciousness kindly left her.

* * *

There were many instances when she woke up and stared out the window at the hazy rush of scenery. Buildings, most of them decrepit and burnt, and open fields of nothing flashed past her eyes. Images swam in her mind, of busy streets full of life and promise- then fading away to charred remnants of empty houses.

The glint of steel, and the grey mass of flesh.

She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep again.

Minho's hand stroked her hair comfortingly and she hesitantly woke from her stupor. Teresa was sleeping, her head leaning on Thomas' shoulder as the boy stared out of the rear window. She turned, incredibly slowly, to look at Minho- his brows furrowed over anxious eyes. Her hand reached up to caress his face and she saw the blood stain there.

Then she shut her eyes tight once more.

The bus finally came to a stop and Minho shook her awake, helping her to stand and holding on her arm tightly as they stepped off the vehicle. They were led into a building; its paint peeling off in large chunks and a part of the ground floor had been smashed in. She shuffled up a flight of stairs with the others and into a huge dormitory. She smelled food- melted cheese- and the scent of lavender clung in the air. Bunk beds covered with red sheets lined the yellow walls, dressers and tables sat in a corner on the opposite side with curtains drawn across windows in bright lime green. It was garish.

"Cassie, look," Minho nudged her with a small snicker. "I think I just got shucked and went to heaven."

Men and women dressed in white shirts and black pants stepped forwards to greet them. They gave the Gladers clean clothes, toiletries and food. It was pizza; the cheesy slices stretched long strings from the pan before being devoured by their eager mouths.

She could taste it, register the flavours in her brain, and a wave of content washed over her as she satiated her hunger. Everyone was laughing as they momentarily forgot about what they had just gone through. Finally, her lips curved upwards into a small smile as well.

Minho watched her, the concern in his face melting away to relief and he squeezed her hand. She looked at him, communicating her gratefulness through her eyes alone, and she knew he understood.

When the food was gone, the attendants were ushering them to bed. They separated the girls from the boys, placing Cassandra and Teresa in another room on the other side of the common area. She didn't want to be away from Minho but her voice hadn't returned yet.

The room they shared was identical to the one the boys had but smaller and without windows. There was a bathroom with running water and she took a shower. She missed letting the warm water run down her body, washing away the dirt and grime and blood. When she re-emerged into the room, she felt like she was born anew. Teresa went in after her and then they settled down, sharing a bunk bed with Cassandra on top.

The mattress was wonderfully soft and her sore muscles welcomed the reprieve. She closed her eyes, but couldn't sleep- couldn't stop thinking of Minho and wanting to be with him. After a while, she could hear Teresa calling her from the bottom bunk.

"Cass?" her voice was soft and gentle, like a muted bell tinkling. "Are you asleep yet?"

She opened her mouth to reply, sucked in a deep breath and let it out, but no words accompanied it.

" _I know it's hard_ ," Teresa spoke into her mind instead. " _But you're strong, Cass, I know you are._ "

It felt easier that way and for once, she was glad that she shared this connection with Teresa. The words flowed from her mind as if it was the most natural thing in the world and it comforted her.

" _Thanks_ ," she said tiredly. " _I just wish..._ _it turned out slightly differently._ "

" _Me too_ ," there was relief in her disembodied voice." _But we made it, at least. So did Tom and Minho._ "

There was a pause as her chest started to ache again, but she managed to get her emotions under control this time.

" _I wish they didn't separate us. I miss Minho._ "

" _I miss Tom_ ," the other girl confessed. " _But they seem okay. I think Tom fell asleep, I can feel it._ "

She wished she could feel whether Minho was asleep and it almost made her laugh out loud. Teresa's presence made her feel safe, glad that they at least had each other- she couldn't imagine if she had to stay in this room on her own. She'd probably resort to talking to Thomas to keep herself sane and that made her cringe inwardly.

" _We're okay..._ " Teresa paused, then added. " _Right?_ "

" _For now_ ," she closed her eyes again. " _We're okay._ "

Silence settled over them for a brief moment, then Teresa's pretty voice whispered in her mind one more time.

" _Cass?_ "

" _Yeah?_ "

" _Goodnight._ "

" _G'night, Teresa. See you in the morning._ "

* * *

 **Ending Credits to Runnin' (Lose It All) by Naughty Dog ft. Beyonce & Arrow Benjamin.**


	50. EPILOGUS

**WICKED Memorandum, Date 232.1.27, Time 23: 05**

TO: My Associates  
FROM: Ava Paige, Chancelor  
RE: SUBJECT C

Everything has gone according to plan, and it is a huge relief to find that the data collected proved our hypotheses. It is incredible, that the basis of our observations is the most basic of human nature that has been innate since the evolution of our species.

Stage 1 to Stage 3 Prophesi have been complete successes and I feel that we are on the verge of a breakthrough in discovering the answer to our question. The virus confined to Point Zero in Subject C has spread 4.5% and her symptoms are becoming more frequent. However, she still maintains complete lucidity unlike her counterpart who, unfortunately, had to be terminated early. Therefore, I believe that there is still hope yet. With the data provided, we will now be able to look into measures that may potentially isolate the virus.

Her interactions with Subject A7 have also been incredibly interesting- that their bond has been so rooted into their subconscious that it even slips through the Swype.

This will be most valuable in the implementation of Stage 2. We can finally analyse our comparison samples: attachment, betrayal and grief.


	51. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Wow, that's the end of Book 1.

Thank you for reading until the end, and I'm glad you enjoyed Cassie's story as much as I did writing it!

Her story isn't finished yet though, and there are weirder things to come. ARE YOU GUYS READY FOR THE SCORCH?!

I'LL SEE YOU AGAIN IN PART TWO OF CASSIE'S STORY:

 **THE TRAGEDY.**

* * *

 **MAJOR UPDATES FOR PREVIOUS READERS BEFORE 03 MARCH 2016:**

Chapter 1: Added a part where Thomas speaks to Cassie in the beginning, and more conversation when the Gladers bring Cassie out of the Box.

Chapter 4: Made it clearer that Cassie is fishing for info on Minho when asking if she could be a Runner.

Chapter 9: Revised conversation when Cassie tells Minho and Newt she's not crazy.

Chapter 10: Cards in the Glade now plus mention of Bark, the dog.

Chapter 11: Lol Runnie-Undies mention :D

Chapter 12: Added science explanation on Teresa's brain log in A/N.

Chapter 13: Added more detail on Minho's dream sequence in the beginning.

Chapter 16: Changed conversation between Cassie & Nick about Minho not being himself.

Chapter 17: Changed conversation between Cassie & Minho. Minho gets a little mad at Newt too.

Chapter 18: NEW SCENE! Cassie gets her request from the Box, it's flower seeds :D Plus Lee sneaking Cassie notes from Minho.

Chapter 19: Changed scene, Gally helps Cassie build traps to catch the beetle blades.

Chapter 21: Added detail to Cassie's trance sequence after she talks to Nick about being trapped in the room.

Chapter 24: NEW SCENE! Cassie gives Minho a sunflower xD He tells her she's like a sunflower when she asked that he thought she was pretty hahahaha.

Chapter 28: Changed Teresa waking up and grabbing Cassie after she comes out of the Box.

Chapter 29: Ben attacks both Thomas and Cassie before Alby arrives.

Chapter 32: Changed scene after Thomas & Cassie runs into the Maze - there's more dialogue now of Thomas asking questions, Cassie telling him to shut up and Minho rambling.

Chapter 37: Cut the Gathering discussing Thomas shorter.

Yeah, I think that's it. :)


	52. UPDATE

**UPDATE :**

Hi guys, I'm really excited to announce that

 **BOOK III: ELYSIUM IS OUT NOW!**

I CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU TO CHECK IT OUT! xx


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